


The Curator

by Palefire73



Category: Frigga - Fandom, Loki - Fandom, Marvel, odin - Fandom
Genre: Erika's Mother, F/M, Loki character development, Loki loves art, Odin is a douche - again, Romance, Romantic Loki, Sexy Loki, Story request, series enrichment, series links, young loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palefire73/pseuds/Palefire73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has spent a lot of his youth travelling the Nine and amassing a huge collection of art, ranging from paintings and pottery right through wooden crafts and to textiles.</p><p>He bets the Goddess, Freyja, that she cannot paint a picture that is more beautiful than a Midgardian mortal's attempt, but decides to cheat so that he can win her Falcon Cloak. When he loses the bet in spectacular fashion and is found out, Odin decides to punish him by confiscating his collection. </p><p>Elisabet is assigned as his assistant and slowly, inevitably, she begins to fall in love...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sentence

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a direct sequel to Artistic Doorways, but there are things in this story which are explained more fully there, should you like to read it first.

“Loki…” Intoned the All Father. “… Odinson, Prince of Asgard…”

 

Loki switched off, bored already. They were in court for the hearing which Freyja had insisted upon after he had tried to cheat her out of her Falcon cloak by betting she could not paint a better picture than a mere mortal. Why she had pursued this he would never know, because the laws of Asgard did not have any rules about betting and… _and_ … she had ended up having the subject of the necklace of Brisingamen aired in public once again.

 

No-one sued Loki for unfair play and got away unscathed. When he had been questioned as to the stake he had offered in return, he had taken great delight in describing the bracelet of Brisingamen and the fact that he had not had to have sex with the dwarves to get it – unlike the depths to which Freyja had descended in order to obtain the matching necklace. She had gone a lovely shade of pink – such a pity that it did not match her golden gown – or the necklace around her throat!

 

“… and, as such it seems that your wandering around the realms and acquiring of all these various items has diverted you from your development as a potential monarch of the Nine Realms…”

 

Hah! Odin was speaking as if that would ever come to pass! It was obvious to all that Thor would ascend to the throne, both as the elder of the two of them and as the clear favourite of the King. Loki did not care; it left him free to exercise his rights as a Prince of Asgard without the headache of knowing he would have to deal with all the problems that being a King would bring.

 

“… and I have decided, after great deliberation…”

 

Was Odin really still droning on? Loki was now studying the mosaics inset into the walls of the room and paying scant attention to his Father’s summing up of the proceedings. He was far more interested in the technique of creating pictures from countless tiny coloured tiles than whatever petty punishment was going to be meted out. Banned from using the Bi Frost again? Confined to his suite for a month? No wine with his dinner for a week? What would it be this time?

 

He rolled his green eyes in boredom and eventually concentrated on what the All Father was saying.

 

“… you have three months to carry the punishment out, given the size of the collection you have amassed. With this in mind, I have created a post for an assistant to you to help out. The position will be advertised and you can select a suitable applicant, bearing in mind the time constraint. Anything left by the end of the allotted time will be destroyed.” Odin now turned his eye upon Loki with a harsh glare, “Do you have anything to say?”

 

Having not heard properly what it was that he had been ordered to do, Loki could not really say anything, so he opted for a sarcastic remark.

 

“Are we done here? It’s not that I don’t love our little talks… it’s just that… I don’t love them.” Odin stared down at him, but did not give him the satisfaction of an answer. Loki shrugged and gave him an insolent look.

“So I get an assistant all of my own? I look forward to it.” He turned and walked out of the courtroom without any show of respect towards his father and Odin seethed at his bad attitude.

 

“One day, boy.” He growled under his breath, “One day…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I suppose you think that was funny in there!”

 

A small but firm hand grasped his arm and Loki stopped walking. He turned his head and looked pointedly down at it in irritation, then glared up at its owner, Freyja. What did she want now? He pulled his arm away roughly and started to walk towards the wing of the Palace that housed the Royal Suites. Time to get rid of her.

 

“Loki! I am talking to you!” She continued, now hurrying alongside him to keep up with his long-legged strides. She reached out again, “I have never been so humili…”

“It is ‘Your Highness’!” Loki snapped. He stopped and spun around to face her, his green and black surcoat whirling round his legs. “You got your bracelet, so do you really want to bring up your shenanigans with the Dwarves again?!” Loki eyed up some of the passing courtiers and Gods who had noticed the brewing argument and raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Anyone would think it had been the best experience of your life!”

 

Freyja stood back, reddening once more and her eyes flickered around some of the faces of the passers-by.

 

“No.” She said in a small voice, clearly cowed by his reaction, “I do not. Good day, Your Highness.” She said and hurried off, blushing once more.

 

Loki resumed the walk to his suite. He wondered what his punishment actually consisted of, since he had not really listened to his Fathers drone. From the snippets he had actually heard, he had a feeling he knew. It was definitely something to do with his art collection and, knowing Odin, it would be severe.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet tucked the needle into the corner of her sewing and placed it on the table. The head seamstress of the Palace, who was her tutor here at the college, had come rushing in to the common room. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to hear her news, as she was obviously quite excited.

 

“An opportunity has arisen at the palace.” She announced with a beaming smile. “There is a vacancy for a curator of art and crafts, and the post has been created to directly assist…” She paused, looking around and everyone leaned forward in anticipation, “… Prince Loki!”

 

A few excited noises came from around the room as some of the girls grabbed each other and a general murmur went up.

“Quiet please! Quiet! You must apply formally. There will be a wage in it and the successful applicant will be chosen by the Prince himself, so make sure you file an impressive application! I will put details on the notice board…” Chatter rose again as everyone talked about the news. It was very rare for a member of the royal Family to recruit someone from the college, but since everyone was studying the arts in one form or another, it made sense on this occasion.

 

Elisabet picked her sewing up again. This would be an ideal opportunity. Her family were not very well off and it had been looking like she would not be able to afford to carry on with her studies if she did not find some kind of employment. And to work alongside Prince Loki? Well, it was every girl’s dream, was it not?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki yawned and slumped forwards in his chair with his head in his hands. The punishment meted out by his father a week ago had yet to begin and it was already making him feel suicidal. The last two mornings had found him sitting at his desk and opening envelopes from applicants for the job of assistant curator and he was now getting to the point where he could happily burn every single one of them. Rubbing his eyes with his slim fingertips, he sighed and reached for the next one. The parchment was pink and – was that perfume he could smell? He held it up to his nose and instantly got an overwhelming cloud of some powerful flowery scent.

 

“Ugh!” He exclaimed and placed it straight in his waste paper bin, which was almost full already. “By the Nine! Why did I not simply have one of the old tutors assigned to me?” He looked over at the golden and black ornamental timepiece on the corner of his desk. If he did not find someone in the next half an hour or so, he would just choose someone at random. The next green envelope perhaps… No matter who helped him, this was going to be a painful exercise. He reached to the pile of unopened applications and, to his irritation, knocked it over. One fell to the floor and he reached down to retrieve it.

 

“It is your lucky day.” He mused, turning it over. “You are at least going to be looked at.” He broke the seal, which was a green wax blob with the insignia of an Asgardian Honey bee. The application was written in a small neat script, was short and to the point and was signed in a way that made him smile – briefly. “I do believe I have found the person for the job!” He murmured. He stood up, swept all the unopened applications into the bin and strode from his suite. Time to let Seneschal know who had got the job.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Helga! Oh, Helga, look!”

 

The black-haired woman turned from the stove in surprise as her friend came bursting into the kitchen, “Calm down!” she laughed, “What is it?”

“I got it! I got the job. Oh – Helga, this is wonderful! It will pay for my tuition fees next year comfortably and I can stay here with you, too. Things are looking up for me, I can tell. Oh, I am so happy – how about we treat ourselves this weekend and do some shopping?”

“Hahah! Anyone would think that you had found a fortune with that attitude! See how you get on first. You might hate it.” Helga wiped her hands on her apron and crossed over to look at the letter that confirmed her friend’s employment. “Oh!!! It has his signature! Do you think it is real, or do you think someone signs it for him?”

 

The parchment was quickly taken from her hands, but in a careful manner so as not to rip it. “Of course it is his signature! You are just jealous!”

“Jealous of working in a dusty old room, wrapping up pieces of art? I do not think so! Give me a kitchen to cook in any day and I would be far happier.”

“Ah, but I will be in very good company. You are jealous!”

 

Helga shrugged. “I admit certain envy.” She reached towards the parchment, “Do you think he wrote it? Does it smell nice…?” The two friends giggled over the letter, which was confirmation of the appointment of Elisabet as assistant curator to one Prince Loki Odinson, AsgardPalace, City of Asgard, Ruling Centre of the Nine Realms.

 

“Oh yes, here – smell it – I am sure I can detect lavender and – what is that?”

“Is it mint?”

“Mint? On paper?”

“I am sure it is! Give it to me again, I need to check.”

“Oh – you! You nearly had me there!”

 

They chatted animatedly about the letter Elisabet had received and whiled their afternoon away guessing what it would be like to work for the most handsome and enigmatic man in Asgard.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Your Highness. It is time to wake.” Loki yawned and stretched his long lean form as the voice came from beyond the curtains that enclosed his four poster bed. He sat up and peeped out: Fulla, his mother’s Lady-In-Waiting, was there with some Midgardian tea in his favourite cup. He smiled gratefully and took it. Midgardian tea was something his mother had introduced him to some years ago, although he had only ever had the pleasure of drinking it in its home realm a few times.

 

“Thank you Fulla. Is it really time to wake? It seems so early.”

“Yes, my dear Prince, it is time for you to wake. Yet you are correct – it is very early. Your mother sent me. She is a little concerned that you may not have grasped the severity of your punishment.” Fulla, who had been there for as long as Loki could remember having been rewarded with the gift of Idunn’s apples in return for her loyal service to the Queen, took hold of Loki’s free hand and looked at him seriously. The Prince was the first to look away as she gave him the same look she had given him all his life when she had something to say to him that she wanted him to listen to and to appreciate.

“Highness. Loki. Do you know what it is you are to do?”

 

Loki looked at his former nanny’s expression, “Why Fulla? I know it is to do with the art I have been collecting, but it cannot be all that bad, surely?” he gave a small laugh, but her next sentence soon wiped the smile off his face.

“Loki, your Father is confiscating all your works of art. He has given you three months with your assistant to preserve, store or to get rid of what you want and then anything left will be destroyed!”

 

Loki placed his cup of tea on his bedside table, threw back the covers and leapt out of bed, not bothering about his nudity in the slightest. Grabbing his robe, he stalked across the room to the bathroom shouting back over his shoulder, “He cannot do this! Over a silly bet and a few bits of magic? I thought I had merely to catalogue it!”

 

Fulla heard the shower go on and shook her head. Frigga had been right; Loki had definitely not been listening to Odin when he had been sentenced. She left to tell her Queen that the green-eyed Prince was now up.

 

Standing in the shower allowing the hot water to course down through his black hair and over his slim pale body, Loki seethed with anger. This was so unfair! It was a complete overreaction on Odin’s part. Loki knew what it all boiled down to; as he had grown older and had been able to make more of the decisions regarding his studies and interests, Odin had disapproved greatly that he had completely dropped out of heavy weapons training and the mindless pursuit of building a body bound with huge bulging muscles. Just because the younger Prince favoured close-contact fighting with knives and preferred long distance running and horse training to broad sword fighting, wrestling and weight-lifting, he was seen as comparatively weak and, even, as feminine.

 

Never having been particularly close, Loki and Odin had drifted apart years ago. Thor, as the stereo-typical Asgardian warrior Prince – blonde haired, blue eyed, tall, muscular, chivalrous and out-going, was more and more favoured by their father. Loki instead was taken under his mother’s wing, especially after the day she had confronted him about his magic as a youngster and had then revealed to him the true extent of her own abilities. After that, they spent many hours together as Frigga helped him harness and develop his talents and it had led on to other things, such as her lessons in fighting with speciality knives. He had learned much from the weapons master, but Frigga taught him so much more. The way she fought was almost like dancing and it was highly effective in the efficiency and accuracy of its movements. Loki’s lithe, graceful and athletically trained body was perfectly suited to the practice and he quickly mastered each new move his mother taught him in the deadly ballet.

 

Stepping out of the shower, Loki wrapped a green towel loosely around his waist and sauntered back out to the bedroom to finish his cup of tea. He wandered out to the balcony to see the dawn and to watch the Golden city of Asgard wake up. He wondered what his new assistant was doing right now. Probably getting ready and wondering what she had let herself in for. He wandered back inside and went to rummage in his wardrobe for something to wear as there was no sign of a valet this early in the day without a pre-arrangement. No need for any formal clothing today he decided, so out came a rumpled green shirt and an old pair of faded black leather trousers. He slipped on a pair of soft black moccasins – a type of footwear he had discovered whilst in Midgard recently – and tied his hair back in a green ribbon. That should do for manual work, he thought, although he was quite sure he would end up using his magic to carry a lot of this out. He went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and was almost taken aback by the scowling face he encountered in the mirror. “I believe I may be bad company today!” he said as he began to brush.


	2. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elisabet starts her new job...

“How do I look?” Asked Elisabet.

“Like princess material!” Laughed Helga.

“Oh! Hush you! I mean do I look like I am ready and presentable for work? Stop joking around – you are making me even more nervous!”

“I am sorry! I’m sorry – you look fine.” Helga tied Elisabet’s hair back in neat braids, “There, that will stop it getting in your way.” She straightened the somewhat utilitarian shirt her friend was wearing. “Perfect! You look efficient and professional,” she smiled, “and so very pretty, despite what you are wearing. Knock him dead!”

“Helga! Please stop teasing me! I am there simply to help him to wrap things up and to catalogue them. He is our Prince and my boss and he will probably be quite professional about all this. I am a mere commoner and I am nervous enough about this as it is!”

“Sorry,” Said Helga for about the tenth time that morning, “now – do you have your lunch? Yes? Good. Do you have something to do during your lunch break? Ohh – what is that?” She took the book Elisabet had been about to put in her bag, “’Midgardian tales’. Sounds interesting – is it any good?”

“I do not know,” Replied Elisabet, “I only got it a couple of days ago, but it sounds like it will be good.” She took it back and stowed it in her bag. “I had better go, or I will be late.”

“Very well,” Helga smiled, “come here!” she held her arms open and they embraced, “Have a wonderful day. He looks all haughty and removed during special occasions, but I hear your job was created because he is being punished for misbehaviour! I heard he tricked Freyja into a bet and then cheated to try to win it!”

“Hush, Helga! I care not why I am helping curate his collection. I simply need the money and I love art, so it is a job I hope I will enjoy.” She kissed her friends cheek, “I will see you tonight – make something nice for supper and I will tell you all about it.” With a quick wave, Elisabet stepped out of the door and started to walk to the Palace to start her new job.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki looked up as a knock came at the door to his rooms.

 

“Enter.” He said, slipping on a leather waist coat; he was nearly ready to leave.

 

“Good morning, Loki.”

 

It was Odin.

 

“Good morning, Father. Sorry I cannot stay to chat; I have an appointment to keep. You see, I am having my lovingly selected art collection confiscated and I have to preserve it myself…”

“Loki! As ever, your sarcasm is infuriating and completely unhelpful!” Odin’s harsh tone cut the dark haired Prince off. He closed his mouth with a snap and looked defiantly at the Asgardian King.

 

Odin continued, “Your assistant has already arrived and has been shown to the galleries. Do not…” Odin’s gaze bore down on him and Loki finally yielded, dropping his green eyes to the floor, “… do not take your anger, frustration and sense of unfairness out on her. She has been employed to help you in your task and has nothing to do with why you are being made to carry it out!” Odin’s eye remained on the younger Prince. “Do I have your word that you will treat her in a courteous and friendly manner?”

 

“Yes, All Father.” Mumbled Loki, barely keeping the sullenness out of his tone of voice.

“Good.” Said Odin and he turned to leave, “I will inspect your progress at some point in the next few days. Good day to you.”

“And to you, too.” Said Loki, although he meant not a single word.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After the Palace guard had left her in the entrance room to the galleries, Elisabet had sat on a chair to wait. However, after a few minutes, her curiosity about this place overtook her and she got to her feet, deposited her bag on the chair and started to wander around to look at where she would be working. The entrance room led through to another smaller room, which was quite elongated in shape and had five doors leading off to other rooms. She chose one at random and slipped through the heavily carved wooden doorway. The room beyond was amazing! It was a vast open space, with an incredibly high ceiling and it was instantly apparent that there were hundreds and hundreds of items on display. The majority of them seemed to be of silver and glass – at least, in this first part of the room – and she gazed open mouthed at the various things in cabinets, on shelves, even suspended from the ceiling above.

 

Curious now as to what could be in the other rooms, she exited that one and went through another door, where she was instantly awestruck by what she saw. Textiles. Textiles of every type imaginable, from familiar costumes of Asgard to the most outlandish clothing and jewellery she had ever seen. She wandered into a small side room, which was dark except for very clever lighting which enhanced the displayed items and encouraged the visitor to wander around and closely inspect each exhibit. This room was dedicated solely to clothing and there were dozens of mannequins dotted around, each with its own amazing costume arranged perfectly. Oh, she was in Valhalla! She was training to be a seamstress at college and, although they were taught how to make everything from a handkerchief right up to a wedding dress and everything in-between, clothing was her specialisation.

 

Elisabet wandered in amongst the silent statues dressed in all manner of robes and dresses and suits and exotic clothes from other realms, which were strange and foreign to her eyes. Each one had a description of the realm, the period it was from, the culture, the fabrics and techniques used – and the Asgardian date upon which Loki had obtained it. It seemed he had been amassing this part of the collection for a few hundred years and the dates on some of the descriptions showed the fragile fabrics to be thousands of years old. No wonder there was no direct light from outside. What a shame all of this – and everything else she had yet to discover in these cavernous rooms – was to be boxed up and stored away for who knew how long, where no one could appreciate it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Following Odin’s departure, Loki had grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl and had left his suite. He strode purposefully down the corridors, his long legs transporting him swiftly and gracefully through the Palace to his galleries while he crunched the golden fruit.

 

He wondered briefly about the girl who would be assisting him; at least he had been allowed to choose from the applicants himself. Her letter had immediately stuck out from the others he had read. Most of the applications had been long winded affairs that had gone on and on about how the person had loved this, that and the other about art, or Asgard, or even him. Some had declared their indignation about his punishment, but most had been boring in their ensuing sycophantism. Then Elisabet’s? – he was not sure of her name - application had, by luck, ended up being opened just as he was getting to the point where he thought anyone would do. She had simply written:

 

“To whom it may concern,

            Regarding the advertisement for an assistant curator to Prince Loki, Son of Odin. I would like to apply for the position. I have some understanding of and an appreciation for art work in all its forms. I am currently training as a seamstress and I am an attentive and hard worker. The remuneration will allow me to continue to fund my college course and I would very much like the opportunity to work in a fine gallery within the Palace.

 

                                                Yours Sincerely, and with highest regards to His Majesty,

 

                                                                                    Elisabet Johannesdottr”

 

It was a straightforward polite request for employment, did not make elaborate promises she could not hope to keep and – above all – she did not try to impress or to send sickly compliments. For Loki heard such things all the time and he grew increasingly impatient with every successive fawning subject making themselves out to be far better than they turned out to be.

 

But probably the thing that had guaranteed her selection had been what she had put underneath her signature, almost as if it was something she would put if she had written a letter to a dear friend. Loki was quite sure she had done it out of habit and would not normally have put it on formal correspondence like this. He suspected she might be embarrassed were it ever to be pointed out to her.

 

She had drawn a small ‘x’ and, in Midgardian circles at least, he was aware that it signified a kiss! What sort of assistant would absent-mindedly put such a thing on her application – did she even know what it meant? It intrigued him and, as he had looked at the pile of unopened envelopes still in front of him, his mind was made up. Elisabet Johannesdottr had got the job.

 

The tall, dark-haired Prince arrived at the wing of the Palace where his galleries were located, swallowed down the last of the sweet flesh of the apple and entered the doors.

“Your majesty.” Two guards just inside snapped to attention upon his arrival and Loki grimaced. So, he was a prisoner here while carrying out his ‘sentence’? He nodded to them in return, “Is the girl here?”

“Yes, Sire. She is waiting in the entrance room.”

“Thank you.” Loki left to enter through into the small room off which the galleries lay, but could not see the girl in there. However, there was a small tote bag on a chair, indicating someone was definitely around. He heard a small noise from one of the large rooms and crept over to look through the door, but still could not see anyone. Then he heard it again – a small sigh. She was in the room that housed the more delicate textiles, an interesting place to start looking – especially for this girl, given her chosen profession. In there were ancient and wondrous costumes, along with jewellery and a few pieces of pottery, a most eclectic assembly of items from across the realms and their ages of civilisation. It was not his favourite part of his collection, but it was certainly very interesting. Sneaking over to the door that led to it, he opened it a small crack and peered inside.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet completely forgot why she was here as she gazed at the variety of colours, textures, shapes, patterns and styles displayed on the mannequins and shelves in the small room. That she was here to help to pack and store these items was now starting to be upsetting to her and she found herself wondering if she could appeal to the better side of the King to allow some of the pieces to be exhibited at her college. The inspiration that could be gained from such precious specimens was unlimited and would make the courses held there so much more interesting.

 

She found herself standing in front of a tailor’s dummy dressed in something called a ‘Kimono’. It was a form of clothing from a country called Japan on Midgard and it was one of the most breath-taking costumes she had ever seen. She read all about it on the plaque beside it, marvelling at the development of fabric-making in that place and before she knew it, she had reached out her fingers and gently stroked the silken material.

 

“Do you like it?”

 

She snatched her hand back as if she had been shot and jumped as the sentence came out of nowhere. She looked in the direction of the soft, well-spoken voice to see someone emerge from a shadowy corner of the room. At first she did not recognise him, having only ever seen him dressed impeccably as a Prince in his Royal Armour, or his other Royal attire – and from a distance at that. The tall, slim man who approached her now, although clearly an Aesir from his stature, was casually dressed and had his somewhat unruly hair tied back in a poor attempt at a ponytail. She blinked a few times as he walked over to her side and joined her to look at the kimono.

 

“It is one of my favourite pieces… although; I have to admit to having something of a soft spot for Midgard…” He looked at her and she gulped as she realised it really was him, now unable to respond as the truth of her situation suddenly overwhelmed her.

“Miss… Johannesdottr, is it?” He asked, smiling down at her from his height, “You are to assist with the, er… ‘preservation’ shall we call it, of the gallery’s exhibits?”

 

_Elisabet! Shape yourself. You are staring like an idiot and he is a Royal! Manners, girl. Manners!_

 

“Your Highness!” She blurted, and managed a curtsey, “I apologise! I… er… I …” she swallowed and tried to beat down the butterflies that had decided to inhabit her stomach, “… I confess I did not recognise you. I am sorry!” Her eyes strayed to his untidy clothes.

 

“Ah, yes. I suppose I am quite informally attired today.” Loki grinned at her, revealing a set of perfect white teeth and her heart fluttered a little harder.

_Calm yourself!_

“Fear not! I understand completely. Is this your first time in the Palace, face to face with one of the Royal family?” Elisabet nodded shyly, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment under his attention. More adrenalin coursed into her veins as Loki put his hand on her arm and squeezed it gently; his attempt to reassure her actually making her start to feel faint.

_Get a grip, Johannesdottr, or get out! This is ridiculous!_

The inward thoughts were not doing her any favours and she took a deep breath to try to steady her nerves as he said, “Well, let us start things off in a relaxed manner. I believe none of this should be happening and that it is highly unfair. However, you are not here to have my bad humour to put up with and I will try my best to leave my feelings about this out of our working relationship. How does that sound?”

 

“It sounds… fair… Your Highness.” Replied Elisabet, uncertain as to how to respond, but going with her instincts, “If I may be so bold as to have an opinion about your Father’s decision, then I need to tell you that I think it is a shame to hide even what little I have seen here from the public eye.” She looked to the floor, now worried that she had overstepped the mark by criticising Odin, but was surprised when Loki rubbed her arm in a friendly manner and laughed; his voice was a deep melodic sound.

 

“I would love to see his face if he heard that!” He chuckled, “And let us be clear on something: while we are here in private, it is ‘Loki’ and I hope you will not mind if I call you Elisabet?”

 

Elisabet nearly choked. Within five minutes of meeting the Prince, he had made jokes, made fun of the All Father, touched her in a familiar manner and had told her to drop his title.

 

“No… no not at all… Loki” The name felt nice on her tongue as she said it to the man himself, especially as it was a name she had never expected to be used in such an informal manner.

“Good. Then let us have a cup of tea and discuss just how we are to go about this wonderful task my Father has set for us!” Linking her arm now, he indicated the door and they went back out to the entrance room, where Loki introduced her to Midgardian tea – drunk from delicate porcelain cups decorated with tiny paintings of roses and gilded round the rim.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Hi, ‘Bet!” Helga rose from her seat at the kitchen table and greeted her friend warmly. She busied herself serving up their supper, “How did it go?” She asked, “Is he nice? Or grumpy? Is he just as handsome close up? What did you do?”

“Slow down!” Laughed Elisabet, “The day went well and I think I will enjoy the job. Although, it is such a pity that all those beautiful things are going to be stored away. You should see them, Helga! There are things from all over the Nine – it is amazing how varied and yet sometimes how similar things can be from different realms. Oh – and the textiles! I was in heaven…”

 

Helga smiled at how her dear friend’s face had lit up as she described some of the objects she had seen - this was going to be a wonderful opportunity for her. Her family were not very wealthy. They ran a small farm which specialised in apples and honey, and Elisabet was really trying to make something of herself. Helga placed a dish of fragranced rice on the table, along with spiced vegetables and steamed fish. Elisabet continued to talk animatedly throughout the meal, much to Helga’s amusement.

 

“Are those honey cakes? Made with our honey?” Asked Elisabet, as her friend produced a pretty plate and began to place some small round cakes that were glistening with the sugary sauce onto it.

“They are indeed – I decided you should have your favourite for dessert today.”

“Oh, thank you! I love them – and yours always turn out so much nicer than mine.” She pulled a face.

“Nonsense Elisabet, yours are just as nice as mine and it is the honey from your parent’s farm that makes them so special. Now, are we having one each, or…” She winked conspiratorially, “… how about two?!”

 

The women laughed as they each grabbed a sticky sweet cake and took huge bites.

 

“Mmm,” Hummed Elisabet, as the honey ran down her chin, “Oh, they’re still warm! Mmm.” She grinned over at Helga, “Thank you for supper – it was lovely.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you have told me all about Japanese Kimonos and ladies riding boots from Rohan and it was very interesting. But – come on, Elisabet! What about… him?” She arched her eyebrows quizzically and pulled the plate of cakes away, “No more until you tell!”

 

“Helga!” Elisabet reached out, but the plate was moved further away, “There’s not much to tell, really…”

“Elisabet Johannesdottr! You do not work with Prince Loki of Asgard for an entire day and have ‘not much to tell’!”

 

Elisabet smiled coyly, “Well, there isn’t. We met in one of the galleries…”

“What did he look like?”

“Well, er… like Prince Loki, except he was dressed casually. I thought you were not interested!” She pulled a face at her friend, “Helga? You are, aren’t you? Look, is that red I can see in your cheeks? Any more of my descriptions and they’ll be as red as your eyes can be!”

Helga, who had indeed been blushing, giggled. “Of course I am interested! Anyone who has blood in their veins knows the Odinson Princes are so handsome, even if they are Asgardian! And who gets to work with one? _With_ , I mean, not _for_. I will die of exasperation if you do not share at least one detail!”

 

“Very well. We met in one of the galleries. He was dressed informally and we had a cup of tea to talk about what we will be doing. Then he took me on a tour of all the galleries. We had lunch…”

“What did he eat?” Helga was a keen cook and worked in a local restaurant, so this was of great interest to her.

“Er, I did not really notice. Er…”

“Elisabet, I am dying here! You are so… so… argh!”

“Hang on – I noticed his dessert! Only because it looked so delicious. It was a dark chocolate parfait with crystallised mint and, well – oh, do not be upset!”

“Why?” Helga was rapt with attention.

“He let me try it. He put a little bit on a spoon and fed it to me.” Her eyes shone as she divulged this little snippet to Helga, “Oh, Helga, it was wonderful!”

“I do not believe it! You have spent every moment since you got home talking to me about art, yet you shared Prince Loki’s dark chocolate parfait with crystallised mint?!” Helga’s voice reached a crescendo and she sat there with a disbelieving look on her face.

“Sorry…”

“Sorry?! Hmm. Well, I think you need to return the favour.” She got up and took a storage box from a shelf. Placing four of the honey cakes inside, she clipped the top on to it and brought it to the table, “Here is a dessert for you and your Prince tomorrow!”


	3. Trick The Trickster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elisabet settles into her job, and Loki cannot resist being a mischief, it seems.
> 
> However, his assistant looks like she might just have a sense of humour to match...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might spot chapter headings that match up with "Diaries" It's not a lack of imagination, it is all part of my intention to weave my tales together. The similarly headed chapters do not reflect what each one is about, but I thought it was a nice way of relating this tale about Elisabet to her daughter's diaries.

“Good morning, Elisabet.” She looked round from the display cabinet that held rare Elven glassware to see the tall Prince saunter in, rolling the sleeves of his green shirt up as he came over to see what she was doing. _At long last._ She thought. This was the third time in two weeks that he had not been here first thing in the morning.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness.” She replied and carefully placed the silver and crystal goblet she was holding into a specially designed box.

“Ah, yes. I apologise for being late today. There was a feast to celebrate some festival or another and…”

“There is no need to apologise to me, my Prince. I have made good headway with the glassware and it should be finished by this evening.” She reached for another goblet and nestled it alongside its twin.

“Very good. Shall I continue with the fetching and carrying of the packaging material? It seemed to work well yesterday.”

“Actually, it was the day before yesterday. You only stayed for half an hour yesterday and all you did was shuffle a few papers around before telling me you had to go to get ready to go to a feast…” Elisabet picked up another goblet.

Looking down at his assistant with an amused expression, Loki scraped his hair back into a scrap of green ribbon, but as he pulled it tight, it snapped.

“Damn.” He muttered, bringing it in front of him.

Elisabet stared in wonder as he brought the ends together and they knitted together in a green glow.

“How…” She gasped, then quickly looked away, back to the glassware in her hands.

“A little magic and a lot of practice!” He laughed softly, intrigued as to her wide-eyed response at such a simple trick. “Now, if I could only do this a bit better…” He fumbled with the ribbon behind his head and produced his usual untidy ponytail.

Elisabet glanced up at his poor effort cursorily and tutted. _He really is not very good at that._ She thought. Indeed, he had had to re-tie it periodically most days, as it eventually kept falling out. No wonder the ribbon had worn out.

“Your Highness,” She said and put down the goblet she had been about to pack, “allow me…” Before she had really thought it through, she had moved behind him, untied the ribbon and started to comb his long black hair back with her fingers. He was really tall, being an Aesir, so she had to stand right up on her toes and get really close to him in order to sort things out. It was only as she wove the ribbon through the black locks then tied it neatly and securely that she realised their close proximity and that she had touched her Prince without invitation. She quickly stepped back and then returned to what she had been doing, avoiding looking at him and expecting to be reminded of her place.

 

“Thank you, Elisabet.” Said Loki, gently feeling at the warrior-style braid she had deftly tied his hair into, “I like it!” he exclaimed, “It is like a style Thor or Volstagg would wear. Oh… I feel more…” he adopted a comical stance as if he was posing to show off his muscles, “… more like a warrior. Like I could go to war…!” Seeing that Elisabet had a most unimpressed look on her face, he stopped. “I do not quite make the grade, do I?”

Unable to keep the grin from her face, Elisabet replied, “I am very sorry, Highness, but I believe your talents are not obviously those required on the battlefield. They must lie elsewhere.”

 

The silly smile that had adorned Loki’s face while she said this quickly transformed into one of outright mischief as he declared, “Oh indeed! I can assure you they do!” and Elisabet felt herself redden as she turned back to the glassware. Such talk was not appropriate!

 

“Anyway, I believe it is lunchtime. Would you join me? There is a bench in the Royal gardens which is a lovely place to sit and I would like to show it to you.”

 

Elisabet placed another glass goblet in its protective box. At the mention of lunch, her stomach had rumbled and she realised she was quite hungry, so she nodded shyly. “That would be very nice, Your Highness. I would be honoured to join you.”

“Elisabet, when are you going to call me by my name? It is really quite formal, calling me ‘Your Highness’, ‘My Prince’ and ‘Majesty’ when we are together all – well most of the day. Well, some of the time – oh, you know what I mean! Do you not agree?”

She glanced up at him to find a warm smile on his face, which she returned as she said “Yes, Loki, I suppose it is. So, while we are insisting on names we prefer, I am ‘Bet to my… to my friends.”

“Why do you shorten such a beautiful name?” Asked Loki, “I think Elisabet is too nice a name to shorten down to something like ‘Bet! I hope you do not think me too standoff-ish if I prefer to leave your name as it is?” He paused and a friendly grin spread across his handsome features, “It does not mean I do not wish to be a friend.”

“Of… of course.” She had never thought of it that way and was quite flattered by his opinion. She placed a lid securely on the top of the box, “Well then, Loki. Let us go to this bench in the garden you have mentioned – and, I have a treat for us today!”

“Excellent!” He enthused, “I love surprises! What is it?”

“Well, you know those cakes I brought when I first started? Helga made them – the honey cakes?” Loki nodded with a look of approval on his face. “Well, last night I had a go at making them and I have brought some for you to try. They have Asgardian Heather honey in them, so you can tell me what you think.”

“Oh, honey cakes!” Loki took her by the arm and escorted her towards the door, “Quickly, gather your things – I am positively ravenous and I cannot wait to try your baking. Are they made with your parents’ honey…?” The two of them – Prince and assistant, or maybe even friends – headed off towards the gardens with Loki talking excitedly about the anticipated treat like a little child.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Half an hour later, Elisabet watched as Loki meticulously made them some Midgardian tea.

“It is called ‘Earl Grey’ in that realm and I have it specially imported. Yet strangely it has always tasted so much better when I have had it there. He added a splash of milk to one of the cups and handed it to her. “There you are, perfect with a… cake?” He looked hopefully at a small box on the bench beside her.

“Oh yes,” Said Elisabet, sipping at the fragrant brew, “here you are, Loki. You may help yourself.”

 

She watched as he plucked a glistening cake from the box with his long elegant fingers and almost laughed at the mock-serious way he appraised it.

 

“It has good colour,” He said, turning it around and trying not to get the honey all over his hands, “and…” he broke a small piece off, “… the texture seems to be just right. Not too crumbly, yet with a good spring to it.” He glanced mischievously at Elisabet who unknowingly was now staring at her Prince, entranced by how he was treating the cake; the way his slender pale hands were handling it and how his mouth opened in a perfect O shape as he popped the morsel in. “Mmm, the feel in one’s mouth is delightful! It is melting away from buttery sponge to perfectly sweet honey with a pleasant floral note…” He paused in his teasing critique, “Are you having yours, Elisabet?”

 

His sudden question broke the slight daze she had been in while she had watched this bewitching man do something so simple as eat one of her cakes. _What is the matter with you?_

 

“Er, yes!” She said and took one from the box, “They are nice, then?” she asked, biting into hers and hoping that it would be even half as good as Helga’s.

 

They are indeed!” Loki enthused, then he started to laugh at her. He quickly slid closer to her on the bench and reached out his hand to her face. A surprised Elisabet watched as a soft green napkin appeared – as if by magic – and then her Prince – her friend? – was wiping her chin where honey had dripped from her cake.

“Messy girl!” He chuckled, looking at her from deep green eyes full of humour.

 

Realising she had stared too long while he removed all traces of stickiness from her face, Elisabet lowered her eyes, blushing. The napkin disappeared and she felt Loki tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

 

“That’s better.” He said, “It is all part of the experience of eating one!” Sensing she had become a little uncomfortable with his proximity and the informality of the situation, he moved back and picked up the box. “May I have another?”

 

Having recovered her composure, Elisabet looked up, smiling happily with the thought that he liked her honey cakes enough to want more. “Of course,” She said, “and if there are any left over, why not take them – er – home?” She giggled, realising all of this around them was ‘home’ to Loki.

 

“Thank you, Elisabet.” Said Loki and proceeded to tuck into another.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Just to the right a bit! Now reach higher and you should feel the latch…” Loki grabbed at the ladder as it wobbled a bit.

“Loki! Please hold it still! I do not wish to break my neck in the name of your bloody art collection!”

“I will catch you, do not worry!” He called up, craning his neck to see if she had reached her goal. Suddenly, there was a click and a shower of fine dust motes and cobwebs landed on him a few seconds later, getting in his hair and eyes.

“Eurgh!” He exclaimed and let go of the wooden ladder, which started to slide sideways.

“Lokiiiii!” A high pitched wail sounded from above him and he reached, blinking dirt out of his eyes, to grab at the ladder before it fell.

“That, Loki Odinson, is it!” Came an exasperated voice from above him and he heard footsteps on the rungs as Elisabet quickly descended, having managed to convince herself to let go her terrified grip of the ladder long enough to allow her to do so. “You are going up the ladder next time!”

“But you might not be strong enough to hold it…” Loki started to protest, but did not get very far.

“Then you will fall! Better you than I!” She jumped off the bottom rung and slapped his arm as he continued to blink the dust from his green eyes. “Some help you were.” Loki looked up to the window she had opened to allow some fresh air into the gallery they were working in. It was quite high up he had to admit, it being set into the sloping side of the huge ceiling of the spacious room. He looked to its neighbour and then to Elisabet, who quickly realised what he was about to ask and was starting to frown, “Can you not just open one more…?” he started to ask.

“No! And that is my final word on the matter. Let us get on with some more cataloguing.”

“Very well,” He sighed and waved his hand nonchalantly in the direction of the distant pane. A thin tendril of iridescent green light floated up from his fingertips towards it and, as Elisabet turned to hand him a sheaf of papers and a quill, the latch clicked open and another puff of dust showered down.

 

“Oh-oh…” The God of Mischief took a step backwards as his petite assistant shot a look up to see the open window and then turned a steely blue gaze upon him. She might only be an ordinary citizen of Asgard, but he felt she may even make the All Father quake in his boots with that look.

 

“Loki Odinson…” She growled and raised an eyebrow.

“I… er, I just…” The silver tongue he was famed for would simply not produce the words he needed. He put on a sheepish face, “… I needed to see if you were confident up a ladder?” he tried.

“Really?” She started to tap the end of the quill on the papers.

“Er, well, no. Not really.” He grinned, hoping to win her over with his devastating good looks and a dazzling smile, “It was just a bit of fun, right, my friend?”

“Oh yes, Loki. Nearly falling thirty feet to my death impaled on your prized collection of Viking weapons was hilarious!” She handed him the papers. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to pack up artefacts.”

 

It was with a small measure of relief that Loki saw her reflection in the glass cabinet in front of him. He was far from being in trouble he realised as he watched her grinning to herself from behind her curtain of blonde curls. It seemed the Trickster had just been tricked!

 


	4. A.W.O.L.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Elisabet start to grow closer whilst working together in the galleries and Loki decides she is the perfect person to appreciate his most precious secret obtained whilst collecting his art...

“Trust me!” Elisabet stepped backwards as Loki approached her again with the strip of cloth.

“I would not trust you as far as I could throw you, Loki!” She put her hands up to fend him off. “We have work to do! Your Father will confiscate anything we have not taken care of by the end of the time we have been given. We do not have time to play silly games.”

 

They were now five weeks into sorting out the five galleries that housed Loki’s enormous collection of art and only two of the rooms were empty. Elisabet felt that she was more bothered about Loki’s possessions than he was, especially on the days when he turned up late, spent time messing about, or even failed to turn up at all. Then there were the pranks he played, like making all her painstakingly constructed and neat notes fade from the parchment as if they had never been written, or cloning some of the items at the end of a long tiring day to make it seem like she had imagined emptying a cabinet. At first, she would get exasperated with him, but she found that the best way to deal with this playful and even sometimes childish behaviour was to either ignore him, or to get her own back. One day, after helping him to tie his unruly hair up for the umpteenth time, she affixed a small tag to the ribbon where he could not feel or see it. The tag labelled the Prince as one of the finest examples of the feminine-looking Eunuchs favoured in ancient civilisations on Midgard. Loki only understood the sniggering behind hands he had experienced around the Palace that day as he had got undressed that night. As he had read the script in Elisabet’s neat handwriting, he had laughed to himself softly at her mischievous sense of humour.

 

“It is not a silly game, Elisabet.” Loki said. The expression on his face was one of trying to persuade her to go along with what he was doing. “I want to show you something and we have to go now or we will miss it.” He stepped forward and raised the cloth again, “Please, trust me.”

 

She looked at him with uncertainty in her blue eyes. He had still not got her back for her small prank earlier in the week and she simply did not trust that this wasn’t it. He smiled warmly down at her, his emerald eyes twinkling as he stepped forward again.

 

“I am going to regret this…” She sighed, as she lowered her hands and closed her eyes. Loki looked down at her young upturned face and realised just how pretty she was. Elisabet felt the cloth being placed gently over her eyes. His forearms brushed against her cheeks and she sensed the space in front of her becoming occupied by Loki’s body as he reached behind her to tie it. She felt the warmth of him envelop her and she smelled the scent of him – his cologne, his clothes and his own – and she felt herself responding to his proximity. Like an over excitable schoolgirl in the presence of her crush, she felt her face grow hot and her heart quicken its beat.

 

Then he pulled the knot tight and was gone.

 

She jumped slightly as she felt his strong smooth hand slide over hers and he curled his slender fingers in between hers.

 

“There is not far to go. But you cannot know the location – no one knows of it. This is my most precious secret.” His voice was very low and conspiratorial.

“Will no one notice that I am blindfolded, Loki, and ask what we are doing?” She questioned his method of taking her to this ‘secret location’ unnoticed.

“No, my dear…” He replied, and Elisabet let out a small squeal, “Ah! What are you doing?!” as she felt his other hand slide down her face, her shoulder and her ribcage in a swift movement, “That is enough! Take the blindfold off this instant! You cannot just grope…”

“Hush!” His amused voice cut her off, “I was not ‘groping’ you! I have made you… less visible.” He pulled her hand, “I do not usually go in for groping anyway. I prefer to stroke gently. Come on! Time is of the essence.”

 

Loki walked swiftly and she had to hurry to keep up whilst still trying to digest his last comment. Eventually he put his arm around her to steady her and they started to descend some steps. From the sounds she could hear, Elisabet realised they must be near the storage cellars under the palace, but she had no idea where. After about quarter of an hour of walking along corridors and down more steps, she heard him unlocking a door and then locking it again once they had passed through. There was a dank smell and she wrinkled her nose. She squeaked as a cold fingertip landed on it and a voice laughed, “Cute!”

 

“Please excuse me.” Loki’s voice was right next to her and she felt a thin strand of her hair brush against her face, disturbed by his breath. Butterflies began to play in her stomach as she realised she was in an unknown location far away from the main part of the Palace, in a cramped space with a man – no, a Prince and a God – famed for his mischief and ‘other’ exploits. She felt him fumbling at the back of her head and the cloth fell from her face.

 

To reveal absolute darkness.

 

She sucked in a breath of the damp, musty air. “Loki, where are we? I cannot see…” But as she blinked, vague shapes started to appear. There were boxes and barrels stacked in a very small room with rough-hewn walls which glistened with damp and it was incredibly dark. To one side was a very large shape draped in a heavy looking cloth and she could detect a faint glow from underneath it. It was this dim light that was illuminating the small room slightly.

 

“Elisabet.” She could just about see him as he turned her towards him and placed his hands on her shoulders. He had a serious look on his pale features and his eyes, which looked like black sparkling gems in the darkness, captured hers.

“I want to share this with you. But it is of utmost secrecy. You must tell no one of its existence. Do you understand?”

“Y… yes Loki.” She kept his gaze as she made her promise.

“I mean it. This took an immense amount of effort to create and it… well, it…” He paused and swallowed hard, with a sad look on his face, “It cost someone their life and disfigured another beyond repair.” His eyes seemed to bore into her, “Do you truly understand?”

Elisabet became worried, “Is it dangerous? Will _I_ die? Is it…”

“No, no! Nothing like that! I would never harm you. I have truly enjoyed working with you over the last few weeks and, well… I consider you a friend. I care for you and out of everyone I know you are the one who will love this for what it is.” He led her over to the covered object, which was easily ten feet tall and around four feet wide., “Now, tell no one. Understand?”

“I understand.” Whispered Elisabet as Loki let go of her hand to reach up and remove the cloth from the object before them.

 

Loki bundled the cloth up and placed it to one side on a barrel. He turned and looked at Elisabet, whose face had a look of wonder upon it. He smiled and a proud and happy feeling went right through him as the young woman examined what he had revealed to her. No one had seen this. It had been here for quite a few months now and was finally in its complete form. It was his Doorway. A doorway to Midgard. Created using a magical brush crafted by the Dwarves, it was a portal that linked Asgard to Midgard directly with no need for the Bi Frost, or any of his other hidden pathways around the realm. It had taken great effort to create and had, indeed, cost one Midgardian his life.

 

Yet, it was here and it was beautiful in its final form. It appeared to be a painting of a small dark room almost identical to the one they were in, framed in a Gothic archway. The room which appeared to be depicted had a small high window, which was the source of the light illuminating the space in which they were standing. The Gothic archway had runes of some kind inlaid in iridescent green and in another strange substance, which appeared to move in an oily fashion if one stared at it too long, never quite there, as if it was trying to avoid being seen. They were a mixture of Loki’s raw magic and Dark Matter; the powers which gave the Doorway its abilities. They sparkled like gems in soft velvet and Elisabet knew they held words of power. Her father had knowledge – ancient, passed down knowledge – of travelling, especially in the Astral plane one inhabited in one’s dreams, and she was sure the runes were related in some way.

 

Reaching out, she tentatively traced one of the runes with her fingertips and, as a deep humming sound emanated from the Doorway, she felt as if she had plucked the strings of a giant harp and she felt a surge of vibration deep within her body. She gasped as images of a deadly rainbow emitting lethal rays of white lightning raced through her mind and snatched her hand away again.

 

“Beautiful, is it not?” Loki’s voice was right behind her and she felt his arms snake around and loosely encircle her waist, “However…” he pulled her gently back and held her against his strong hard body, “Do not get too close without me. I do not know if you are able to use it on your own safely. The reaction you just had to it is not familiar to me. Is there magic in your family?”

“Erm, not that I know of, although my father is a Shaman.”

“Ah…”

“What is it, Loki?” She breathed, leaning back into his embrace. She was still amazed by it and a little overwhelmed by being held so closely by him. Loki coaxed her around to look at him and pulled her in towards him, now hugging her small frame against his chest. She closed her eyes in anticipation – what was going to happen now? “It is a Doorway. Now, hold tight to me. I have never…” He stepped to the side and she instinctively followed him, “… done this…” he stepped again, “… except on my own…” he took one more step and she sensed a change in the air. “But it seems that it works!” Loki stepped away from her and she opened her eyes.

 

The ‘Doorway’ was now on her other side and the picture in it had changed. With a thrill of excitement and fear in equal measures, she realised she was now ‘in’ the painting. She turned to look at Loki, who was grinning widely and excitedly, too. Before she could react, he took a step towards her and placed his hands on both sides of her face, “Welcome to Midgard!” he laughed happily and, leaning down towards her, he kissed her.

 

Elisabet stood there, slightly stunned, as her Prince stepped away again and began to gesture around the room, totally unaware of what he had just done to her. While he excitedly chattered about how he was so glad others could come through the portal and how she was going to love what he had to show her, Elisabet’s insides were churning and her head felt full of excitement, fear, desire, sickness and a whole host of other haphazard and confusing emotions. For Loki, it had been a simple, happy welcome kiss for accomplishing the jump from Asgard to Midgard with another person. For Elisabet, it had been something else entirely.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Elisabet?” Helga snapped her fingers in front of her friend’s face, “Elisabet?! Your supper is going cold!”

The daydreaming look left the blonde girls face and she focussed back on Helga.

“Oh, I am sorry…” She picked at her plate, moving the food round but not eating it.

“What did you do today, anyway? You came back awfully late.”

“Hmm?” Elisabet’s eyes drifted from her plate to her friend’s face in a way that showed she was not paying any attention to her.

“Hello? Is there anyone in?” Helga laughed. “Whatever is the matter with you? I think that you should go to bed. Whatever Loki had you doing today, it has clearly tired you out!”

“Yes, I am tired.”

“Then go to bed!” Helga stood up and took Elisabet’s hand, “Come on, before you fall asleep in your supper! We can catch up tomorrow instead.”

 

Elisabet changed into her night clothes and fell into her bed, tired from the day she had spent with Loki. The visit to Midgard had started – once she had got over the shock of being in another Realm for the first time in her life – with breakfast in an establishment called a café, watching the golden spires of a large religious building called ‘York Minster’ become illuminated in the golden sunshine. Then they had walked, it seemed, for several pleasant hours, soaking up the atmosphere of the mortals and their bustling lives, looking in wonder at their architecture, their clothing, their art and their world in general. Elisabet was in a wonderland and Loki was her more than willing and very enthusiastic guide.

 

But more, much more than all of that, Elisabet could not – despite the new sights, sounds, smells and other delights she was being bombarded with – forget the touch of Loki’s lips on hers as he had kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Doorway in question is the one created whilst Loki was trying to cheat Freyja out of her cloak.  
> Its story is told in "Artistic Doorways" if you would like to investigate further :)


	5. Art and Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elisabet starts to have real trouble working with Loki - when he chooses to turn up - and decides whether to carry on in his employment...

The next two days, Elisabet found herself alone in the galleries. At first she was annoyed. One whole day spent in another realm and now two days working on her own. It was as if Loki had given up on their being able to preserve everything in time and no longer cared.

However, it did mean she did not have to work in his presence. She still could not get that kiss out of her head, no matter how platonically he had obviously meant it. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind tortuously replayed the memory of his handsome face meeting hers and the soft touch of his lips as he had kissed her. And every time, there was a pulling sensation in the muscles deep in her belly. It was starting to upset her and she began to wonder if she could continue in her position as his curator.

She sipped at her drink and looked at the timepiece. She had two hours until the time she had promised Helga she would be back. The third room was now empty and the two remaining rooms, she felt, were going to be the most interesting for her. One held the clothing, jewellery and other things such as pottery of Midgard and Alfheimr, as well as really rare Trollish pieces (they were not well known for their creativity in artistic directions); the other held hundreds of paintings and pottery from all over the Nine. She decided to make a start in the room of paintings and wandered in to take a look. There seemed to be little or no logic in how they were displayed. Different styles from different realms were all mixed together, but they seemed to form a strangely chaotic yet pleasing and, paradoxically, a harmonious flow as one travelled along. Cabinets of china, porcelain and clay objects lined the walls underneath the pictures and these, at least, were organised according to their origin. 

Elisabet walked round a corner and as she looked up she sucked in a breath of wonder. She had walked into a large alcove which was set off the main room, and it clearly held his favourite paintings. Each one was afforded much more space on the wall and was beautifully lit by cleverly located wall sconces.

In the middle of the main wall there were two paintings of a similar style to each other and of the same building. One was at dawn and one was at dusk, showing the change in the mood of the day. They were stunning. The colour, depth, light, composition – she felt as if she was back there on Midgard, so beautifully and realistically had they been painted.

“I commissioned them.” Loki slowly walked past her and stood looking at the twin paintings, “Are they not just the finest paintings you have ever seen?” He brushed his fingertips over the fiery red tips of the spires in the sunset picture and Elisabet watched as he appreciated the work before him.

“They are beautiful.” She agreed, “Loki – these cannot be hidden away! It is a crime to deny these to the realm.” She crossed to him and grasped his arm, “Is there no way you can come to an agreement with the All Father? Even just for these?”

Loki looked down with some surprise at the passion with which she was speaking. Her young pretty face was flushed and her eyes were aflame with her feelings. She turned her gaze from the Midgardian scenes and looked up at him, leaning heavily on his arm where she gripped it tightly. Suddenly, she seemed to snap out of it and let go abruptly, backing away and staring at the floor. “I am sorry, Loki. I, er … I feel strongly about this. Especially since you took me there to see the Minster.”

“Do not apologise for your passion.” His voice was soft, reassuring, and it got under her skin. Pulling herself together, she looked at him and smiled, “I have managed to complete the third gallery. I was intending to start in here tomorrow, but I really will need you here to help.”

“Yes, I am sorry for my absence. If you have a moment, I would like to show you what I have been doing…?”

Elisabet pulled her face, “No, Loki!” She said in an exasperated voice, and walked from the alcove back into the main room, “These things will not pack and catalogue themselves!” She turned back and was annoyed to see the Prince leaning casually against the wall, one long leg draped across the other and his arms loosely crossed, watching her with faint amusement. Without warning, she lost her temper.

“You are not taking this seriously enough!” She shouted. He was being infuriatingly blasé about the potential fate of the works of art he had travelled far and wide to collect – she was more upset at the notion than he was! Her face reddened as her temper worsened and she started pointing around the room at various pictures. “I just do not know how you can risk any of these pieces being destroyed! It would be a crime!” She stopped at one particular painting and reached out to touch it. It was an example of bas-relief showing the moons of Svartalfheimr in a rare convergence and she ran her fingertips over the textures the artist had used to create the patterns of their surfaces using light and shadow. “You are insulting the artists who put their heart and soul into each and every one of these works and you…”

Her tirade came to an abrupt end as she felt Loki’s hands settle gently on her shoulders and then as he kissed the top of her head. “I apologise, Elisabet.” He said softly, “Please do not worry so much. I will not allow a single item to be left behind.”

Elisabet stood stock still with the tall and alluring Prince right behind her, feeling angry and now trapped. Although Loki had merely wanted to placate her and reassure her, she was experiencing very different feelings. Her heart was beating as if she had run round the Palace five times; her breathing was becoming difficult to keep steady and that horrible heavy feeling that came just before a faint was creeping in. She needed to get away!

Loki looked after his passionate assistant as she suddenly fled the room with a surprised and then puzzled expression on his face. He sighed and followed her out, to find her leaning on a table which had once displayed a fine set of porcelain, breathing deeply as if to calm herself down.

“Elisabet?” He placed a hand on one arm and she moved away as if she had been burned. “Elisabet, I am sorry! I do take this seriously. I do, truly.” He took her hand and she finally looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and still very upset. He ventured a smile and she quickly looked away, swallowing – nervously? What was the matter with her? She had been incredibly angry only moments ago.

“I am sorry, Elisabet. I have left you to work long hours alone and it is unfair of me to have done so.” The dark haired Prince stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her, “I have placed too heavy a burden on you and it has obviously made you fatigued.” He hugged her and kissed the top of her head, as he had earlier, “You have every right to be angry with me. Please, take a break and come with me to see what it is I have been arranging.”

The feeling of being in Loki’s arms as he gave her a friendly hug was wonderful to Elisabet. He was strong, but gentle, authoritative yet caring and he smelled amazing. Before she even thought about what she was doing, she wrapped her own arms around his waist to return the embrace and she let out a huge sigh, with much of her tension escaping with it. “Is that better?” Asked Loki and he relaxed his hold on her. The young seamstress nodded, letting go of him and then she sat on the edge of the table, looking at the floor as she said, “I am sorry, Your Highness, for shouting. I over stepped the mark…”

“Never apologise for well-meant heated words spoken in a moment of passion, especially when defending something like the art in these rooms.”

Elisabet saw Loki’s feet appear in front of her again. He was only trying to calm her down and to reassure her as a friend and to clear the air, but she was seeing all of this from the point of view of one of his subjects and the level of informality he was displaying was making her feel uncomfortable. Even though they had clicked very quickly and got on like a house on fire, he was still the Prince of Asgard and she was a commoner. Of the two people in the room, it was Loki who was forgetting her – and his – place.

“Loki. If I may have a word?”

Both of them looked to see Odin at the main door to the galleries. Elisabet immediately stood up from the table and moved out of the close proximity of her prince. She curtseyed to her King in the Asgardian fashion, “Your Majesty. Good evening.”

Loki took a little longer to address his King in the appropriate manner and only then was it grudgingly. He nodded his head and crossed his arm over his chest in the correct way, “All Father.” He said, not making much of an effort to disguise his irritation at this intrusion. Odin nodded back briefly, “A minute of your time?” he said and indicated they take a walk out in the corridor. Elisabet could see the stiff and controlled way Loki was holding himself; it was nothing like the relaxed manner he had adopted while in the galleries with her. The tall Prince looked back at her, “Pack up for today, Miss Johannesdottr. We will continue in the morning.” The smile he gave her quickly disappeared as he looked back at the King, “Father…” he said and both men walked out the door.

Elisabet sat back down on the table heavily. She could not cope with the way her relationship with Loki was changing. Of course it was nice that they seemed to be great friends - it made each day much more pleasant than it could have been – however, the strict line between them, the demarcation between servant and Royal, was being crossed by Loki more and more. He touched her and joked with her as if she was a close friend from court, not as his employee from a common background. It simply was not appropriate and it was made worse by her attraction to him.

With a heavy heart, Elisabet made up her mind. She would tender her resignation with the Seneschal and she would do it now, on her way out of the Palace to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter helps to show where Erika got her backbone from - her mother, of course!


	6. The Lecture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual, Loki's..... charm (?) causes a poor girl to doubt herself, become infatuated and make silly mistakes.  
> A recipe for perfect fanfic, then ;)

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Father?” Loki actually tried, on this occasion, to keep his tone pleasant. He really wanted to show Elisabet his surprise and in order to do so he needed this conversation to be as short as possible.

“The girl who is helping you…”

“Elisabet. Her name is Elis…”

“Yes, yes. Your assistant.” Odin sighed as they walked along, “You grow too familiar with her. I have arranged for a replacement and he will take her place tomorrow. The Seneschal has full instructions…”

“No!” Exclaimed Loki. “No, you cannot do this!” He stopped walking and glared angrily at his father. “We are most of the way through the task. She is a hard worker and has an extraordinary eye for art…”

“She has an extraordinary eye for _you_ , Loki!” Interrupted Odin, “I can do this and I already have. You have grown too close and I do not approve. Heimdallr…”

“Heimdallr?!” Loki was aghast and stared disbelievingly at Odin, “You have had me spied upon? What has he told you?”

“Enough to have caused me to make this decision. As of tomorrow, you will have a new assistant. I suggest you use your time wisely – anything not stored away by the time it runs out will be destroyed!” Odin’s steely gaze met his son’s own of stormy green and for a mere second, he saw hatred in there. But Loki was a master of Lies and Illusion and the emotion was quickly replaced by one of indifference. The King strode away, leaving the tall slim prince standing alone in the empty corridor, completely at a loss as to what to do.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What are you doing out here?”

 

Elisabet looked up from the cup of tea she had been staring into for the last half an hour to find Helga looking at her quizzically. She was sitting out in the garden, having wandered out here earlier in the morning.

 

“Why are you not with the Prince? Are you unwell?”

“No.” Elisabet’s voice was devoid of all emotion, indifferent and clearly not interested in having this conversation. But Helga was her friend and she was not about to give up.

“Then why are you here?” She sat down next to Elisabet and took the cup of cold tea from her hands, placing it on the table.

“I resigned yesterday.”

“You did what?!”

“I resigned.” Elisabet, with her hands now empty and she at a loss as to what to do with them, began to mess with the hem of her tunic where a thread had worked loose.

“Why on Asgard would you do that?” Asked Helga incredulously, “It was a dream job! You know, you Asgardians do not know how privileged you are. In my realm, employment is compulsory and you do not get to choose what you do. You are assigned a role and that is your lot in life!”

“I know… I know. But I cannot base my choices on how things are for your people back on Jotúnnheimr…”

 

Helga nodded in agreement, “I am sorry, Elisabet. I should not have brought my past into this; it is just that life here on Asgard, even for us commoners, is so much more comfortable than it is back there.”

Elisabet looked at her friend, “I know how hard it was for your family to get here Helga and I know it must be difficult masking your identity. The day will come when Jotúnns are accepted here – I know it. I have seen more and more of your people choosing to remain in their true form…”

“Not all of us have the choice – not all of us have the ability to change. And those that remain Jotúnn? They are few and far between and are usually those who live in less savoury parts of the city!” Helga’s eyes briefly took on their natural red hue, which Elisabet found strangely beautiful, “The main advantage of living here, though, is that we will live longer under the magical influence of Asgard herself.” She smiled and her shapeshifter eyes returned to her disguised colour, “Which means I can spend more time with you! Now, why did you resign?”

 

“I… I, er, no longer liked the job. And Loki is lazy.” Elisabet resumed picking at her tunic and Helga’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Do not lie to me, Elisabet. What happened?”

“I…” Elisabet struggled to maintain her composure and she lost the battle spectacularly, bursting into tears. “I love the job! I love the art… I love… Oh, Helga - I think I love Loki!”

 

“Oh no.” Said Helga sympathetically, “Come here…” She hugged Elisabet, who told her what had happened, including the way Seneschal had almost looked relieved when she had gone to his office to tell him of her decision and that he had not even tried to stop her. He had simply had her sign a form of resignation, paid her what she was owed plus a small severance in recognition of her excellent service and had showed her out.

 

“You have to go back, of course.” Helga told her friend sternly.

“I cannot! I have resigned… I cannot work there… I…”

“Nonsense! Go and get cleaned up and I will take you back there myself. No one will replace my Elisabet!” Before she could protest, Elisabet’s friend disappeared back into the house.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki had absolutely no intention of making things easy for his new assistant curator, nor did he make him feel particularly welcome. Adopting a most imperious attitude, he said hello in a polite manner, pointed out where he would be working that day and had then fallen silent, giving off very antisocial vibes. Although he was not directly or purposefully nasty to the poor young man, it was more than clear from his cold body language and his adoption of the demeanour of an aloof Royal that Loki was not happy about the situation. It caused an unpleasant atmosphere and the poor fellow became increasingly nervous as the morning wore on. It was shortly after he had broken something for the third time that Odin turned up to see how things were going.

 

“My dear boy, do not fret so. It was only four hundred years old. I have plenty more items that are older and rarer.”

 

Odin frowned as he saw the Trickster pat his new assistant on the back and smile reassuringly as he handed over a dustpan and brush.

 

“Ah! Hello Father!” Loki strode over to Odin with the same forced smile plastered on his pale face, “How are you today?” He walked straight past the King of Asgard, who turned to follow him out of the gallery.

“Where are you going Loki?”

 

Loki stopped walking and turned around, “Well, I do not believe I am needed in there. At the rate Sven is breaking my things, there will be no need for storage…” He resumed walking to the Great Hall. “I am quite hungry. Will you join me for lunch?”

“No Loki, I will not.” Said Odin sternly and the Prince stopped walking, looking back at him curiously.

“I see this will not work. No matter who I assign to you, you will do your best to make sure they are not able or do not wish to carry out the task at hand.” He held up a hand as Loki opened his mouth to protest. “Do not try to deny it, Loki. I am not stupid! You are trying to force my hand and have the girl reappointed. However, your luck is out. If this young man cannot carry out the job satisfactorily, you will have to find someone who can work with you. The girl resigned yesterday anyway.” He made as if to walk away, but Loki’s voice stopped him.

 

“Resigned?”

 

Odin turned round with an almost triumphant look on his face, “Why, yes. She called in to the Seneschal on her way out and asked to have her post terminated. She cited ‘professional differences’. From what Seneschal told me, she seemed quite upset and most determined that she no longer wished to work for you.” Seeing the dark haired Prince’s face fall at this news, the King of Asgard did not give him a chance to respond and swept away, leaving him to slump dejectedly against the wall as his father’s words sank in, all appetite and bravado gone.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Elisabet, are you ready?” Helga shouted up the tiny stairwell to her friend, but got no reply. “Elisabet?” When there was still no response, she ran up the stairs and knocked on one of the bedroom doors. “Elisabet? Are you in there?” She opened the wooden door to reveal a small room. A bed with a white painted iron frame was in one corner, with its pale green patchwork quilt drawn neatly up and an old teddy bear lying on the matching pillow. A small white chest of drawers had a vase of yellow Asgardian Daises upon it along with Elisabet’s latest piece of embroidery. A matching chair had a cushion resting on it in the same material as the quilt and everything was exceptionally neat and tidy. But Elisabet was not there. Helga spotted a piece of paper with her name on it and turned it over to read the brief note.

 

> “Helga, I cannot go back to the Palace. I have gone to stay at the farm for a few days and I shall be back for college next week. I am so sorry for not saying goodbye, but you would have talked me out of it!
> 
> Thank you for being there for me – you know I love you, my dearest friend.
> 
>  
> 
>                                                                                                 Elisabet
> 
>                                                                                                         x”

 

Helga smiled at the little ‘kiss’ under Elisabet’s signature. So, she had gone to stay with her parents. The break away from the city and the Palace would do her good.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Holding his arm out, Odin watched as Hugnin landed and he brought him close. He listened to the report the raven made and carried the majestic black feathered bird over to its pedestal, which was the twin to the one that his brother, Munnin, was perched on. The King was not happy with the news he had just been given. A fourth person had literally just resigned the post as Loki’s assistant and by all accounts, not a single item had been packed or catalogued for storage since Sven – the one who had kept breaking things – had left a few days ago.

 

Part of Odin did not really care; it was Loki’s collection of art that would burn in just four weeks’ time, not his. Yet another part of him was furious. It almost seemed as if the young Prince was prepared to sacrifice his precious possessions to drive home the point that he was not happy about losing that damned girl. Fair enough, she had been doing a marvellous job, but she had been getting far too familiar with Loki for a common girl and, of course, Loki was not the type to turn female attention away. Even had she not resigned, Odin would have terminated her contract. But the Prince in the meantime had done little to further the job. He had turned up as each new person had arrived, shown them where they were going to work, and had then done absolutely nothing to help out. The situation had been so difficult that no one had lasted more than a couple of hours before asking to be excused from the post.

 

Odin frowned as he considered the situation. On the one hand, he was annoyed that Loki was flagrantly disobeying his punishment, even if it meant losing his art collection; on the other, the King was incensed, as he felt as if the Trickster was trying to manipulate the situation in order to have the girl re-assigned so that he _could_ carry out his punishment.

 

In the end, none of it mattered. The following day, Odin looked up to see the doors of the Throne Room bursting open as an irate woman dragged someone along behind her, while one of the guards tried to stop her, remonstrating with her about the intrusion.

 

“Your Highness! Your Highness! I would seek audience with you!”

 

As the three of them drew nearer, the guard dropped to one knee at the bottom of the steps to the throne and saluted.

“All Father! I beg forgiveness! The lady is a strong-willed individual and I…”

“No matter.” Odin’s voice was low as he eyed up the woman who was staring at him with a defiant look in her eyes. “You are dismissed – I will deal with this myself.” He had quickly recognised the person who was nervously standing behind the one who had dragged her in, chewing her lip and looking like she was about to cry.

 

“Now then, ladies…”

“Your Highness!” Interrupted the brave woman, “I must express my disappointment with the situation regarding my friend’s employment!”

The interruption irked Odin, but he liked the mettle of this woman and decided to humour her.

“And what is it that you wish to discuss, er…?”

“Helga Gillingsdottr, your Highness. This is my dear friend, Elisabet…”

“Yes, I know who she is.” Odin switched his single blue eyed gaze to the smaller woman, who came out from behind Helga at the mention of her name. “Can you not speak for yourself, girl?”

“Er, I…” The fair-haired young woman nervously curtsied to him and kept her eyes to the floor. “I… I… I…”

“Elisabet has come here to tell you that in the days since her resignation, she has reflected upon it and now regrets her decision. She realises she had been given the opportunity to examine and appreciate rare works of art that no one else in Asgard has seen and that she would really appreciate being allowed to continue and to see the rest of the collection. She now begs you to consider her reassignment.”

“And why do you speak for her? Has she no tongue?” Asked Odin gently, now acutely aware of Elisabet’s discomfort. She was very pretty, he mused. If she had not been of a common background, he may even have encouraged her relationship with Loki to develop in order to try to tame the wayward boy.

 

“I can…”

“She is nervous…”

“I believe she is overwhelmed by being in your Magisterial presence, Father!”

 

The three of them turned to see Loki approaching the throne. He was dressed impeccably in fine black leather trousers, a green silk shirt which hugged his slim frame complimentarily and a long fitted black leather waistcoat which was decorated with some of his Royal emblems in gold. Elisabet sucked in her breath and held it. He was beautiful! Loki nodded at the women as he arrived and drew level with them at the foot of the steps to his father’s throne.

 

“Helga. Elisabet.”

 

Elisabet could not take her eyes off him as he knelt at the foot of the steps and saluted his King. Loki’s very elegant and stately behaviour was incredibly attractive and she had to force herself to remember to breathe lest she grow faint.

 

“All Father.” His voice was low and respectful, just how a Prince should greet his Monarch. Even Helga was now openly staring at the charismatic Prince who was only a few feet away.

 

After a few moments Odin, who was not swayed by the charm Loki was exhibiting, spoke up, “Loki. You may speak.” He noticed how Elisabet had grown uncomfortable and had placed Helga between her and the handsome young Prince who now stood to say his piece.

 

“Father, I do not wish for those of my possessions which as yet are neither catalogued nor stored away to be destroyed. However, there is another person who is much more passionate than I about their conservation…” He gestured towards Elisabet, who now turned beet red at being brought into the conversation directly, “… and it is Elisabet.” He frowned and sighed as he continued: “I believe she resigned because of my apparent apathy towards the situation and…” Loki looked back over at her, but she avoided his intense stare, “… I truly wish she would see the task out to the end.” He turned his eyes back up to Odin, “Should you be gracious enough to allow it?”

 

Odin considered his words for a moment. “Loki, Helga.” He said, “Leave us. I would speak with Elisabet in private.” He gave them both a hard stare as he sensed them both wanting to protest, but they both quickly gave in as they realised he would not be moved on his decision.

 

The All Father waited patiently on his golden throne as the two of them vacated the throne room, whilst Elisabet stood below him feeling increasingly nervous and uncomfortable. She felt like she was going to throw up. Damn Helga! She may have meant well, but this had been a complete mistake. She glanced up as the large doors clanged shut – like those of a prison cell – and her heart sank as she saw Odin observing her. After a long and unnerving silence, the King finally spoke.

 

“I will be brief, Elisabet Johannesdottr.” His expression asked for her understanding and she nodded, swallowing nervously, “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Loki’s behaviour has always been… difficult. He is academically brilliant, socially astute and incredibly perceptive of people. However, he is rebellious, arrogant and he is one for creating mischief and chaos where originally there was order and calm. Do not be fooled by him, girl. Everything he does is with a purpose in mind.” He stood up from the throne and descended the steps towards her, “He is exceptionally clever. He is canny and quick to recognise advantages in any situation, which is why he will, one day, make a very good statesman or tactical Warmaster. However, at the moment, he is a mere youth and his quick mind is concerned only with youthful pursuits.” Odin reached out a hand to touch her face benevolently, “I fear you will become one of those pursuits.”

 

Removing his hand, the King’s face suddenly closed down and he looked at Elisabet harshly. “I am aware of your feelings for Prince Loki. However, all your successors have failed miserably in the task of helping him – for various reasons.” He turned and walked back up to the throne, where he summoned Gungnir and looked down to Elisabet where she stood, now trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

 

“Your post is reinstated. You have three weeks to finish the preservation and storage of the works of art. Anything left will be destroyed.” He banged Gungnir lightly on the floor to seal his proclamation.

 

Elisabet bowed her head in deference, “Yes, my King.” She said and turned to leave, but Odin’s voice checked her stride.

 

“There is just one thing, Miss Johannesdottr. Make no effort to pursue a relationship with the Prince. He is supposed to be carrying out a sentence, not enjoying carnal knowledge of a mere seamstress student!”

 

His cruel words cut Elisabet to the bone and she struggled to maintain her composure as she curtsied to him then walked in as dignified a fashion as she could out of the Throne room. She had never been so humiliated in all her life and she had to bite her lip hard in order to fight back the angry and bitter tears her King’s words had caused. She went to the nearest public bathroom and rinsed her face, gulping down deep breaths and composing herself as best she could before she went to find Helga and Loki to tell them the news.

 


	7. Free Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elisabet feels going back was probably a mistake and Loki has to work hard to convince her otherwise.... then gets a shock.

The first day back was unbelievably awkward, but Elisabet stuck it out because the truth was that she needed the money and she did not want to incur the wrath of Odin for messing him around. She also wanted to see the final room of art the most – textiles, ceramics and jewellery from around the Nine – so she persevered.

 

She had turned up extra early and had quickly organised the catalogue for the paintings, then had made sure there was enough packaging material for them. By the time Loki arrived two hours later, she was well on the way to having completed wrapping and labelling the smaller works from the large room of paintings.

 

“Good morning, Elisabet.” She jumped slightly at his voice; she had been so engrossed in her work she had not heard him arrive.

“Good morning, Your Highness. I have organised everything, I just need your help with the heavier things.” She completely avoided looking at her Prince, feeling uncomfortable now he had turned up. If anything, Odin’s insinuation that they were lovers, his disdainful observation of her position in society and his warning to keep her hands off Loki had made her even more acutely aware of the Prince’s attractiveness, rather than putting her off.

 

“Elisabet, let us get something straight. Please look at me.” She raised her eyes slowly to his face, blushing tremendously, and waited to hear what he had to say.

 

“I wish to apologise for upsetting you. I do care about these works and I have enjoyed working with you for the last couple of months, but I genuinely had been away preparing a surprise for you the other day.” He smiled. “We can still go to see it, if you would like to…?”

 

Elisabet picked up her catalogue and quill, Odin’s words echoing in her mind, “I do not think it would be a good idea, Highness. Our time grows short and there is still much to do. Now, the South wall has a lot of works that I cannot reach or carry on my own. Shall we start with those?”

 

Loki look genuinely upset at her rebuttal for a moment, but then his handsome features rearranged themselves into an amenable smile, “Of course. Lead the way.”

 

So the rest of the day was spent removing various paintings and packaging them. It was not done in complete silence, but the communication was kept to that which was necessary in order to carry out the tasks. Making good headway with the work, they stayed until very late, only stopping for a short lunch and then again for a quick dinner. Finally, having just carried a particularly heavily framed picture to the packing table, Loki called a halt.

 

“I think we should leave it at that for today.” He said, looking down at Elisabet. “We have worked long hours and made very good progress.”

Elisabet put her quill back in the ink well, “Yes, we have.” She agreed and, for the first time that day seemed to relax enough to be able to smile at him. Loki instantly smiled back at her, “Would you consider taking supper with me before you go?” he asked.

 

Her heart sank; just a week ago, she would have gratefully accepted. However, Odin’s warning rang fresh in her mind and she knew she had to turn him down.

“I am afraid I am too tired, Your Highness,” She replied, “and we have much still to do.” She picked up her bag and turned to see her Prince looking disappointed. Nodding politely, she said, “I will see you tomorrow. Early, I hope?” Not bothering to wait for an answer, she left the gallery to go home, feeling utterly miserable.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“How was today?” Asked Helga brightly as she set a plate of toasted bread on the table for their supper. She did not really need to ask – her friend’s face said it all.

“We managed to store a lot of items.” Elisabet picked up a slice of hot buttered toast and tore it in half disinterestedly.

“Whatever is the matter? Please – do not tell me he is being horrible to you. ‘Bet? Are things awkward?”

“A little.” Elisabet sighed and dropped the toast back onto her plate. “It matters not. Everything should be stored away well before the deadline.”

“’Bet! This is no good. You got along so well with him before you left. You even said…”

“It matters not what I said!” Interrupted Elisabet, “I should never have gone back!” Leaving her supper uneaten, she left the kitchen and went upstairs to bed.

 

Helga stewed over the strained conversation. Loki had been so complimentary towards Elisabet when speaking to Odin. What had changed? She frowned as she thought things through. If the dark haired God of Lies did anything – _anything_ – to hurt her friend, then he would have one angry Jotúnn to answer to.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki threw the ball of parcel string down on the table in frustration, making Elisabet jump in fright as it bounced off and rolled away unravelling everywhere. “I do believe I have had enough of this!" He said and took her quill from her hand. She looked up at him apprehensively as he stared at her before saying: “Elisabet, this atmosphere we are working in is not a pleasant one. You have not used my name once since you came back and you have hardly smiled, despite being able to work with all this art which you clearly love!” He took her hands firmly in his and held them to his chest, “What is the matter? Please Elisabet. Surely a few absences cannot have landed me in this much trouble – I thought we were friends?”

 

Elisabet did not know what to say. Of course she wanted to be his friend, but it had been forbidden by the All Father.

 

“I, er… no. You are not in trouble…” _Oh, by the Gods! Do not cry now!_ “I apologise.” It was no good; the tears were coming and she could not stop them, “Please excuse me for a moment.” She pulled her hands away and quickly left the gallery to go to the bathroom, where she battled those infernal tears until she managed to choke them back. Damn it all to Hel! Why had she ever applied for this job?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki watched Elisabet leave the room in yet another state of upset. He hated seeing the poor girl like this – they had been so close only a week ago, eagerly discussing the finer aspects of pointillism one minute and giggling over well-endowed sculpture the next, and the punishment of having to dismantle his collection had even begun to be quite a pleasant experience. He made up his mind. He was going to take Elisabet to show her what he had been arranging before she left. Then he remembered what Odin had said about her. He had inferred that Elisabet was too attracted to the green eyed God and that was why he had made the decision to remove her from her position as his assistant. Then Elisabet had resigned anyway – how convenient.

 

He dismissed these thoughts. He did not want to spend the remainder of the three weeks working in uncomfortable silence with such a vibrant and friendly creature.

 

Just as he was thinking all this over, Elisabet came back and picked up the parcel string, rewinding the ball carefully. She stiffened slightly and looked up at the beautiful eyes of her Prince as he took it from her and held her hands again, gently refusing to let her go.

 

“Elisabet, this can wait.” He held a slender pale finger up to her lips to silence her protest and became upset at the way she flinched and moved her head away with a look of – was that fear? – on her face. “I would like my friend back and, if not, I would at least like this hard shell you have built to disappear. Now, come with me.”

 

Before she could pull away, Loki wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in his strong, warm and wonderfully scented embrace. A feeling of sickness overcame her as the world suddenly dissolved from around her and was replaced by blackness. A green flame flickered weakly into life and illuminated Loki’s face, which was mere inches from hers and she yelled in fright.

 

“Ah, good. You have not fainted. You are made of stern stuff!” Loki pulled on her hand and the blackness disappeared behind her as if she had walked through a door into…

 

She recognised the room immediately and looked at Loki, who had that same silly, giddy expression on his face as once before.

 

They were on Midgard.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Heimdallr was puzzled. Odin had asked him to check on Loki and his assistant during the day while the rest of the allotted time for the storage of art passed. Yet he could find neither of them in the Palace. He cast about Asgard’s golden city, but still could not locate them. He summoned one of the guards of the Bi Frost and sent a message to Odin.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It took all morning and a great deal of effort on his part, but Loki broke through that shell. Admittedly, he had needed to use a lot of his skill and his silver tongue had never had to work so hard on an ordinary citizen of Asgard before, but slowly and surely she had relaxed and eventually she had smiled at one of his compliments. By late afternoon, they were holding hands as they walked through a large garden in the city of York and Loki was explaining how alike, yet how different the plants were to those on Asgard. It turned out that he had spent a lot of his younger childhood learning the herb lore of Asgard with Queen Frigga, his mother, and was skilled in the use of plants as food, medicine and some of the other useful properties they held.

 

He picked a Midgardian daisy and tucked it behind her ear, and she laughed shyly and blushed. She was still completely overwhelmed by the attention of her handsome Prince, but was managing to keep a lid on her emotions – just – and to simply enjoy it. Asgard, the Palace and the warnings of Odin were a world away.

 

“Now look, the light is changing.” Said Loki, “It is time for your surprise.” They rounded a corner and came to the large square in front of the Minster. Loki took her to a café and there they partook of some Midgardian tea and a dessert type food called a scone with jam and cream. Loki messed around with the cream that had been provided, dabbing some on her nose and laughing noisily. He reached out to remove it with his thumb and their eyes met as his fingertips brushed her jaw. A dart of something approaching desire stabbed Elisabet at the feel of those soft fingertips on her face and she quickly dropped her gaze and grabbed her napkin to wipe her face.

 

“Really, Loki!” She laughed nervously, wiping her nose. She glanced back up and found he was still looking at her.

“Your hair is so beautiful in this light, Elisabet.” He said and reached out to tuck a stray curl back behind her ear.

“Er, thank you!” She replied, starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Trying to break the heavily charged atmosphere building between them, she said “Not as beautiful as the Minster. Look!” She pointed and Loki finally looked away from her to see.

“It is indeed. And that is why we came here.” He signalled across the square to a shop front and the person there waved back. He turned back to Elisabet and smiled warmly. “Come. It is ready.”

 

Wondering what he meant, Elisabet took his proffered hand and they walked across the square to what turned out to be an art gallery.

“Please,” Said Loki, “I would like you to meet the proprietor and the most talented artist in Midgard – in Yggdrasil, I do believe!”

The artist, who was dressed in a white smock with paint dotted on it here and there, turned around from the easel which was bearing a large painting and smiled, “Hello! Here we are – all done.”

Elisabet forced a polite smile on her face as she looked at the artist. Although very attractive by Midgardian standards, the presence of dreadful black runes spoiled the face of the mortal who was now turning around the easel to show them what was upon it and she found it difficult to not stare.

 

“That is fantastic!” Enthused Loki, “Elisabet, look!”

 

It was a painting of York Minster in the same style as the two paintings of West Minster in Loki’s gallery. Only it was different. While Loki had been treating her to a late afternoon tea, the artist, who had been painting this for days under Loki’s commission, had added two figures to the painting: Loki and Elisabet were now immortalised in paint as two people enjoying themselves at a café opposite the huge Gothic building.

 

Loki grinned, “I know the West Minster paintings are destined for storage, but what you said the other day made me think and I am having this hung in my private study. I will not return it to Asgard until after all the art has been stored away and so no one will know of it. The existence of my study is known only to myself and my mother and this will serve as a permanent reminder of our time here today.”

 

“It is lovely.” Said Elisabet. She turned to the artist, who was also smiling, “Did you paint the other two?”

“Yes I did. Loki was kind enough to take me back to London on a trip last year and I could not resist. I owe so much to him…”

“Now now! You will make me blush with your fawning. It was only a brush!” The two of them laughed softly as if at some private joke while Elisabet examined the painting, marvelling at the strokes of paint and how they managed to capture the colours and the light so magically. “You have a rare talent. I love it. You must be famous here on Midgard?”

“I am fairly well known, but mostly for portraiture. Not landscape. Thank you for saying so. Shall I send it to Asgard the usual way, Loki?”

“Yes please, but not for a while. I will send word when I am ready to receive it. Now, I fear we have spent most of the day here and I am probably in trouble with my assistant…?” Loki raised an eyebrow mischievously.

 

Elisabet tore her eyes from the painting and looked at her tall dark Prince, smiling.

“I think I can forgive you.” They both knew that her words were laden with more meaning than just the trip to Midgard.

 

She almost didn’t do it, but she went with her feelings instead. Standing on her tip toes, she placed a quick peck on his pale cheek. “Thank you for today, my Prince. Come on, we really should return to Asgard. And early to bed tonight; we will have to make up for lost time tomorrow!”

 

As she turned to thank the artist for the wonderful painting again, Elisabet did not notice the look on Loki’s face. And it was fortunate she did not, for it was several long moments before he managed to pull himself together enough to disguise the feelings her kiss had sparked inside him.


	8. Loki and Elisabet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's friendship with Elisabet deepens into something else...
> 
>  
> 
> Didn't really want to spoil it, but in the interests of decency, I have to warn you that there is a dose of sprite-flavoured scenes in this chapter. Not quite a lemon, but a bit more than a lime ;)

The next two days passed quickly as Loki and Elisabet worked steadily along the other walls of the painting gallery and on the third afternoon, as she stuck a label on the last one, Elisabet reflected on their time together. Loki had turned up early the morning after the trip to Midgard with his hair neatly tied back and raring to go – and he had stayed all day until she had called a halt. All day. Both days. He had never shown such dedication and the progress had been really good with him finally knuckling down to help her properly. As they had relaxed around each other again, the joking and messing around together had returned full force; they were truly enjoying each other’s company again. She walked back into the gallery, which was now empty; a sad echoing ghost of a room once filled with the vibrancy and talent the Nine had to offer. She found Loki standing in the middle of the featureless space staring at one of the bare walls.

 

“I was a fool.” He said in a low voice.

“Yes. I am afraid you were.” She agreed and he looked down at her with an amused expression. “Well, you were!” She laughed. “Maybe one day you will be able to display them again. And this time, you should make them available for public viewing.”

 

Loki placed his arm around her shoulder and she leaned in to him. The shadows on the walls hinted at the rich variety of works which had hung there only days ago and it really was quite sad. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm in a friendly manner, “Let us not stand here maudlin. We have achieved a lot and only have one part of the collection to go.” He smiled down at her and kissed the top of her head, “Your favourite medium, I believe? Textiles and ceramics?”

“Yes.” Sighed Elisabet, “I need to talk to you about that.”

“Then let us have lunch together!” Said Loki enthusiastically, “We can sit out in the Topiary Garden and you can tell me what is on your mind.”

 

“Prince Loki. The All Father demands your presence.” Two guards came into the empty room, their armoured footsteps echoing from the walls.

 

Elisabet saw her Prince instantly transform from a relaxed happy friend arranging lunch to someone who was devoid of emotion save maybe, was that some kind of apprehension on his face? Even fear? She dismissed the notion. No! He surely did not fear anything Odin had to say. Did he?

 

“Tell him I will be along shortly…” Began the Trickster, winking at Elisabet as he pulled her closer to him and she felt a tingling sensation start.

“Your Highness, you are to accompany us now.” Said one of the guards, standing in a relaxed way which almost belied his readiness to apprehend the Prince if necessary.

 

Loki sighed and pulled a face. He let go of Elisabet. “It seems I will have to postpone our lunch date.” He said, “I will meet you here later.” He kissed her hand with a flourish and bowed before her flamboyantly, “My lady!” He said and Elisabet laughed at his Tomfoolery, blushing.

“Go Loki. I will see you later – and I have a treat for you.”

The green eyes of the dark haired God twinkled as he grinned, “Then I shall return post haste!” He turned to the guards who were waiting patiently, “Well then…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet looked at the timepiece on the wall of the gallery. Loki had been gone for three and a half hours, and lunchtime was long gone. She took a piece of pottery from a shelf and wrapped it in some tissue paper carefully, wondering where he was. She really needed to talk to him about the textiles they were still left with; their preservation would be more complicated than merely packing them in boxes or in crates. Asgardian Moths were notorious for infesting textile stores and ruining them. She also wanted to ask him permission to take two or three pieces to use as inspiration on her college course.

 

She heard the outer door closing and placed the wrapped pottery into a padded box, turning round to see who was there. It was Loki. He was staring at her as if he had something on his mind and, just as she began to grow uncomfortable, he seemed to come to a decision and he walked up to her and placed his hands on her arms. Looking down at her with a serious expression on his pale handsome face, he asked:

 

“Elisabet, do you enjoy working with me?”

 

She smiled and laughed softly, “Of course I do! Why do you ask?” Her face became serious as he looked to one side and bit his lip, “Loki? What is the matter?” His green eyes wandered back to her and he looked distracted. “Loki? Where have you been? What did your father say?”

 

At the mention of Odin, Loki’s hands tightened a little on her arms and his expression darkened. “He said many things. I dislike our little talks, as they tend to be lectures rather than an exchange of views and ideas.” He sighed and looked down, relaxing his grip and gently rubbing her arms. When he finally looked back up at her, his face had turned into one of uncertainty. “He said one thing, though, which troubled me and that is why I have been absent much longer then the ten minutes I spent with him. I needed to take some time to think upon it.”

Elisabet placed her own hands onto Loki’s arms, mirroring him. “Is it something you can tell me?” She asked, “I know I am only a seamstress student and you are my Prince, but we – we are friends, are we not? Is it something you can trust me with?” She sighed, “Loki, your father… he, well he has a lot to consider…”

“My father interferes in things that should not truly concern him!” Said Loki in an angry tone, “Elisabet, he said things which should not be any of his business. He inferred some things that, well, that explained your resignation. Do you know he was going to dismiss you even had you not resigned? And do you know why?” While asking these questions, Loki had unconsciously moved closer to her and they were now only inches apart. His voice dropped to a low whisper as he asked her the questions. “Elisabet, he alleged things about you. Things which he now threatens once again to terminate your service for. He says he warned you when you came back and that you are again showing signs of disobeying him.” His handsome face formed into a gentle questioning expression, “Elisabet. I would know. Is this true?”

 

There was no point in denying it. Odin had obviously said to Loki the same things he had said to her. Knowing she was about to lose her job and her chance of continuing to work with Loki, she spoke the truth.

 

“I was warned Loki, that much is true. Your father accused us of being lovers and that I should cease my affections towards you if I was to continue in this post. He reminded me of my common station in Asgardian society and that…”

 

Her words failed her as Loki drew her into an embrace, “I am so sorry that you have had to suffer these accusations and attitudes from my father, Elisabet.” As he felt her reluctance to be held in such a close fashion, he hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “Fear  not. I have magically cloaked us. None can see or hear us and you may say and do whatever you truly want.” To his consternation, he felt the slim frame of the young girl start to shake with tears as her own arms slipped around his waist and she clung tightly back.

 

“I should leave, Loki. For to stay in your presence simply as your friend takes effort. It matters no longer what I have tried to keep secret, since Odin has so openly described it. I am in love with you Loki. I already harboured feelings for you long before I applied for this job – what Asgardian girl does not? But you have turned out to be friendly and of a good nature and fun to be around. We share common interests…” She paused and removed her arms with the intention of stepping away, “I really do want to help you right through to the end, but this has now spoiled it.” She tried to move back and Loki slowly relaxed his embrace to allow her to do so. “I am sorry, Loki. I will go now. I have a friend who knows the correct techniques for storing delicate textiles; I will send her along tomorrow in my stead.”

 

“No. You will not.” Said Loki and Elisabet looked up to him questioningly, only for him to visit upon her lips the sweetest of kisses. Her heart raced and she felt suddenly drunk as he brought her close, prolonging the kiss they shared. Eventually, he slowly let her go and she looked up at him in a daze.

 

“Your company, your expertise, your interest, your sense of fun – everything you have brought to this task – has made the experience a much more pleasant one than it should have been.” He said, “And we have found friendship. And more than that. And it has nothing – _nothing_ – to do with my father.” He slid a hand into the blonde curls at the back of her head and leaned down towards her again. This time, and to his delight, Elisabet finally shed her apprehension and eagerly returned his kiss.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The tiny stairs reverberated with the rush of Elisabet’s descent, waking Helga up. She glanced irritably at her timepiece. Five thirty?! Where was she going at this early hour? Unable to muster the will to rise from her comfortable bed, Helga turned over to snuggle underneath the eiderdown and heard the front door slam shut.

 

She would grill Elisabet for answers later.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Odin dismissed the guard who had just delivered Heimdallr’s morning report on the wayward Prince and that strumpet he was employing to help to store his art. Apparently, they had decided to start early today and had been in the gallery since six o’clock this morning. They appeared to be mostly cataloguing and listing, sitting at one of the desks writing in large ledgers.

 

Good. It seemed his warnings were finally sinking in. and it would not be long before that girl could be ejected from the palace for good and Loki’s true punishments could begin. Odin planned to get that Prince into as many weapons training classes and warrior conditioning sessions as he could. It was time for Loki to man up.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet laughed gaily as Loki made one of the blue butterflies he had magically created land on her nose, where it tickled her with a crystalline proboscis and fluttered its iridescent blue wings, catching the sunlight.

 

“Oh, how do you do that?!” She exclaimed, and the insect took flight, only to disappear in a cloud of sparkling green dust.

 

“Practise.” Loki smiled and winked at her, leaning back on his hands as he sat on the grass at the edge of one of Asgard’s rivers. Elisabet, who was beside him, rolled onto her front, supporting herself on her elbows as she lay close to him, “Well, it is beautiful and amazing…”

“Hmm… like you.” Said the dark haired Prince smoothly and he leaned over to kiss her. He reached a long arm behind her and pulled her up on top of him, lying back down on the soft green grass, whereupon they kissed and caressed by turn in the warm Asgardian sunshine.

 

After a few minutes of sharing this sweet love, Elisabet sighed and brushed her fingers through Loki’s soft luxurious black hair and looked down into his emerald green eyes, “We have to go back Loki.”

“Oh Elisabet! Let us stay a while longer. No one can see us. Our clones have plenty to do and will have all that boring listing done for us when we get back. Come here…”

 

She gave out a small gasp as he gently pushed her to one side down onto the grass and rolled on top of her, whereupon he began to kiss her again. For a few minutes, she allowed herself to enjoy it, but her feelings – and his, she suspected – moved rapidly on from simple but sweet affection to the start of lustful thoughts. She broke the kiss and pushed him gently upwards. “Loki, we must go.”

 

He looked down at her from a very flushed face and nodded, panting slightly and licking his pale lips, “Yes. Yes, I think that might be a good idea.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Stop right there, Elisabet Johannesdottr!” Helga shouted out from the back kitchen as she heard her friend come in the house and start to go upstairs. “Kitchen. Now!”

Elisabet gave her a sheepish grin as she entered the room and dropped her bag on a chair. “Whatever is the matter? I apologise for not letting you know I would be late…”

“Late? Late?! It is eleven of the clock! You left at a ridiculously early hour, too. Elisabet, get your pretty behind into that chair and do not move. You are going to share your day with me even if it takes all night!

 

The two girls shared a pot of tea and a small supper as Elisabet enthused over the textiles and pottery she had been packing up all day. Helga listened with interest at the happy young woman’s words, not quite believing she was being told the whole story, but she was so glad Elisabet had had a good day that she only probed once. “And Loki? How is he?” Elisabet had reddened instantly and then had giggled, “Loki is… Loki is exactly himself!” She laughed and took a large gulp of her tea. “Anyhow, I must go to bed as I have to rise early again. There is still much to do and we only have two weeks.”

“Well, I hope he is not expecting you to work this weekend. Have you, in your excitement, forgotten that it is your birth celebration?”

“No, Helga. I have not. He is giving me the afternoon off on that day. That is why we are working longer hours the next few days.” She neglected to mention the longer hours were not entirely used for working.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki lifted Elisabet up and onto the wooden cabinet. She was breathing heavily and her perfect lips were parted to reveal the tip of her pink tongue as her crystal blue eyes stared at him excitedly. He moved his tall frame forwards to stand between her legs and leaned into her heavily as he began to kiss her passionately again, with her eagerly returning in kind.

 

Outside the door to the private viewing room, which Loki had locked from the inside, “Loki” and “Elisabet” sat quietly at the cataloguing table, patiently listing everything their real counterparts had hastily packed up that morning.

 

Inside the locked private viewing room, the real Loki and Elisabet had been looking at and discussing some rare troll pottery when they had come across a plaque which depicted a small group of trolls engaged in an unusual looking sexual act. Elisabet had blushed furiously and Loki had made an incredibly lascivious remark, and now here they were – kissing and clutching at each other.

 

There were no words exchanged; they both knew what they wanted despite Odin’s warnings and threats, and they were about to do it. Loki wrenched up her skirts and pulled her legs around him, pressing himself against her as their kisses grew more forceful. Elisabet pulled his green shirt over his head and ran her fingers down his firm chest and slim abdomen, straight to his belt, which she unbuckled in an almost desperate fashion. Her impatient breaths emerged against his lips as she then unlaced the front of his leather trousers and he hissed as she roughly pushed them down. She wanted her Prince! Her small hand reached down to grasp him, whilst the other fumbled with her undergarment to pull the soaked cloth to one side and she guided him towards her centre.

 

Her strong legs wrapped tightly around him, drawing him closer and he slid into her welcoming heat. They continued to kiss hungrily and passionately and he began to make love to her. The pottery contained within the cabinet and on some side shelves began to wobble dangerously as it rocked in time to his rough thrusts, rattling noisily in an aural accompaniment to their illicit coupling. Elisabet began to moan into his mouth, her voice quickly changing into cries of passion as his lovemaking became more intense. And as they experienced the ultimate pleasure together in that private viewing room, a bowl which was an example of the finest earthenware that troll country had to offer fell to the floor and smashed.

 

Loki had kissed her softly and lovingly as they regained their breath and came down from their high, leisurely rolling his hips towards hers, prolonging their physical contact. Afterwards, he had noticed the broken ornament and had solemnly mended it with his magic. Turning to Elisabet, he had given it to her, “A memento.” He said with a wink.

 

Having dismissed the two clones, Loki had sent to the kitchens for an evening meal to be brought to the gallery and he and Elisabet had busied themselves with packing some more pottery away. Then came the turn of the textiles. Some were incredibly old and rare and Elisabet had to explain their care and preservation requirements in detail to her Prince so that he could procure the correct types of packaging for them. Other items were much more modern and Elisabet tried a few of the costumes on to see how the fabrics moved and felt and to study how they had been put together. At one point, she even managed to dress Loki in a crinoline which was all the rage in parts of Midgard just now, on the grounds that she could not study the structure of the skirt of the dress and its movement properly if she wore it herself. He believed her for the first ten minutes as she kept her face straight and made him walk up and down “like a lady”. But, as she looked up at him the fourth time and started to giggle, he realised it was a prank. For some reason, the God of Mischief was not amused!

 

Conjuring the dress away and returning to his clothing of black and green, he lunged towards her with a smirk on his face, “You will pay for that – wench!” and they set off running around the displays, dodging around the mannequins and throwing things like hats and scarves at each other.

 

“Got you!” cried Loki and Elisabet screamed in fright as what she had thought was a tailor’s dummy reached out and grabbed her.

 

Laughing and panting hard, she giggled “Your Majesty! Do I call you my King… or my Queen?!” and dodged from his grasp to run back to the section on First Age Elven work wear, only to run straight into him as he materialised out of thin air. “That is cheating!” she yelled.

“I will show you right now which gender I am, my dear girl…” He growled in a lustful voice and leaned in to suck on her neck as he grabbed her hand to press it to his swollen crotch, “… you will be in no doubt which name to scream, believe me!”

 

Flirting unashamedly, Elisabet arched her neck towards his lips, “Oh, my Prince, however will you forgive me for my mistake?”

 

“Forgive? I think I intend to punish… come here!” he shouted as she slipped his arms again and grinned mischievously:

 

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much!” She laughed and started to run again.


	9. The Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain someone is spoiled by her lover...

A few hours later, Elisabet stretched her arms into the air and yawned. After Loki had caught her again, he had made good on his promise and they had lost another hour to more… pleasurable… pursuits than wrapping up pottery. However, it was now a few hours later and the last gallery was almost half empty and Elisabet was exhausted.

“Time for us to retire, I think.” Said Loki, “We have accomplished much today, despite our… diversions.”

Elisabet blushed as she smiled prettily, “I enjoyed our ‘diversions’.” She said, looking down at her hands, which had earlier today gripped Loki’s shoulders tightly as he had made love to her for the second time, “They made the day pass very pleasantly.”

“Then perhaps you might like to pass a pleasant night with me…?”

She looked up at the questioning Prince with a disappointed air, “Loki, you know I cannot…” Her words were cut off as he leaned down to kiss her softly and the unfairness of the situation was suddenly brought clearly home to her. She placed a hand gently on his chest and pushed him lightly, yet not completely away, for the woman in her craved his alluring proximity. “I have been warned, Loki. As have you. Let us call it a night, go home and see what tomorrow brings.”

Loki knew she was right. To incur Odin’s wrath could mean her instant dismissal and that was something he did not want to happen. He was already trying to think up a reason to keep her on after the job of curation was done. He sighed and pulled her back to hug her. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “You are right, of course. At least allow me to escort you home. It is very late.”

“That would be very…”

“Loki.”

They quickly pulled apart at the intrusive voice and their hearts sank as they recognised who it was.

“It seems your assistant requires an escort home, given the lateness of the hour.” Said Odin, his face set into an unreadable mask. A guard appeared through the doorway and Elisabet, getting the message straight away, picked up her bag and accompanied him out of the gallery, only stopping to politely curtsey to Odin and say “Your Highness.”

Loki watched her back as she left and then turned his green eyes to his father, “Thank you for ensuring her safety.” He said and made for the door himself. He did not want to stay around for the inevitable lecture. The All Father did not reply, but he did not take his eye from the God of Lies for one second as he watched him stride from the gallery. His face said it all anyway; Odin was not happy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Please allow me to ask him! This is important – these beautiful costumes cannot be hidden away and stored indefinitely when they could be displayed as an inspiration to students as the college.” Elisabet held Loki’s hand and looked seriously at him.

“He will not hear you.” Loki’s tone gave away years of experiencing in dealing with his father.

“Please, Loki. Just one chance.” She smiled a large cheeky grin and winked at him, “How can he possibly say no?”

Loki sighed, “Go, if you must. But I tell you he was angry at finding us like that last night. You will be lucky to get through the doors.”

“Thank you Loki!” Before he could dissuade her further, she slipped out of the galleries and made her way down a long corridor towards the Throne Room. Slowing down to calm herself and to get what she wanted to say clear in her mind, she did not see the Queen coming from a side corridor and they collided.

“Oh! Your Majesty! I am so sorry!”

Queen Frigga smiled, “Do not fret, dear. No harm done. Oh – are you Elisabet?” The beautiful Queen gave her an appraising look.

Elisabet curtsied to her Queen and replied, “Yes, Your Highness. I was just on my way to see the All Father. I have a question to ask him.”

“Then I shall accompany you.” Frigga winked, much to Elisabet’s surprise, “I am to ask him something, too, so shall we go in together? Strength in numbers and all that…?”

Before she could respond, the beautiful Queen linked her arm and they set off towards the Throne Room together. “What is it you wish to ask the King?” asked Frigga.

“I wish to gain permission to take a few items from Loki’s collection to put on display at the college where I study. I think it is shameful to hide such a wonderful collection away… oh, I mean, er, I mean I think it is a shame…”

“Elisabet, I fully agree, but I could not possibly have tried to argue with my King over his chosen punishment.” Frigga stopped them both and turned to look at the pretty young girl. “Do not tell Loki this, but the only reason it was not automatically destroyed is because I begged Odin not to allow that to happen. That is why it is only being stored away. You do not need to know of our family politics, but I love what Loki has brought together over the years and, aside from the beauty of the exhibits, they are an important record of the diversity the Nine has had to offer culturally throughout history.”

“Exactly!” Said Elisabet, “They are very important. That is why I have come to see him.”

“There is a problem however, Elisabet. And I think you know what it is.” The Queen’s face became serious, “You are not exactly Odin’s favourite person of late, are you?”

Elisabet’s face reddened at these words and she dropped her eyes to the floor in embarrassment, “No, maybe not.”

“I think it is wonderful that you get along so well with Loki, but you must be prepared for things to end. Either Loki will grow bored of you, or Odin will find out the true extent of your relationship and he will dismiss you.” Elisabet gave Frigga a shocked look as she wondered how the Queen knew, but quickly realised a caring and astute mother would instinctively know when her son was in love with someone. “I do not think the All Father will even see you, let alone grant your request. However…” Frigga’s expression became conspiratorial, “… however, he might just listen to me. Go back to the gallery and I will stop by later on.”

“But… but…”

“No ‘but’s! Off you go before anyone sees us together. I will be along shortly.” Frigga waved in the direction of the galleries, “Go on!”

“Thank you, my Queen.” Said Elisabet, and curtsied before setting off back to the galleries.

Frigga watched the poor naïve girl disappeared and shook her head softly. The young assistant to her son was caught up in and would become the victim of a situation she could not hope to understand, but which had been played out between Loki and Odin on more than one occasion. A battle of wills. And, up to now, Odin had always won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, Elisabet, that is marvellous!”

The tutor for the course that Elisabet was currently attending smiled happily, “I shall make arrangements immediately – this afternoon did you say?”

“Yes, Ma’am. It is imperative they are brought here today, as the deadline is fast approaching for the galleries to be emptied.”

“Well then, it is settled – certainly. The college cannot possibly pass up this opportunity.” The tutor stood up and placed a hand on her student’s shoulder. “Thank you, Elisabet, for keeping the College in mind while you were at the Palace.”

“You are most welcome, “Beamed Elisabet, “I look forward to using them in my studies. But it is Queen Frigga who should take the credit. She was the one who liased for us.”

After a little persuasion, Odin’s wife had managed to convince him to allow the College to have several items to be donated to its resources library and its museum where the students went for inspiration. Along with Loki, Elisabet had then selected several pieces of textile and pottery, quickly packaged them up and had set them to one side to be collected. After they had stuck labels on the cartons, marking them as destined for the College, Loki had prepared them a cup of Midgardian tea and Elisabet had produced a box of Asgardian Apple pies with a Midgardian-inspired accompaniment called ‘Chantilly Cream’. She had made them using a tangy variety of cooking apple from her parent’s farm and the Prince was delighted with them, not even asking permission before helping himself to seconds. He dabbed delicately at the corner of his sensuous mouth with a napkin, “I have a gift for you.” He said and motioned for her to accompany him to the small room where the particularly precious items of textile, jewellery and pottery were kept; the room in which they had first met.

With his emerald eyes sparkling in the glow of the wall sconces, he held out a small box to her. “For your birth celebration.”

Elisabet took it in surprise, looking up at his happy and expectant face. She turned the box over in her hands to look at it and saw that it was Midgardian in origin, of Rosewood and other timbers. There was a beautiful pattern of a sunburst on the top and the craftsmanship was second-to-none.

“Oh, Loki, it is so beautiful! Thank you so much.” She kissed him softly, lovingly, “Thank you, Loki.”

“That is not all,” He enthused, “look inside!”

Grinning excitedly at her handsome Prince, Elisabet carefully opened the box to reveal green tissue paper inside.

“Careful…” Whispered Loki, his deep and velvet voice sending tingles up her spine. She smiled nervously at him and then gently started to remove the layers of tissue to see what it concealed.

Elisabet sucked in a breath of wonder and delight at what was within the beautiful wooden box. Nestled in the velvet lining were two hairpins. She carefully took one out and turned it over and over to examine it. The rich yellow gold glowed in the torch-light and tiny emeralds set into the metal glinted as the flames reflected off their many facets, sparkling almost as beautifully as the eyes of the man who watched her, “Oh, Loki…”

“They are Dwarven.” He said reverentially, “Made by the best craftsmen of the finest gold in the Nine…” He grinned and touched her face, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb. “Your hair looked so beautiful in the sun on Midgard,” He said as he took the pin from her and threaded it through one of her braids, “What better setting for them than in amongst these luxurious curls?” He leaned in close to affix the pin and, drawing back slightly, he took her in his arms and kissed her. “May you have a wonderful Birth Celebration.” He said.

“I will…” Replied Elisabet, “but how about I celebrate it with you now?” She placed the box on a side table and kissed him again. “Why not give me something else to remember my day with?” She stroked his pale face and rested her finger on his thin lips, “We do not have to be anywhere soon, do we?” Loki’s expression darkened into outright desire at the flirtatious manner in which she was speaking and she yelled out in surprise as he picked her up and carried her over to the wall, where he pressed himself against her. 

“You are not going anywhere…” He murmured as he fastened his lips on her throat and lifted her up, bringing her legs around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ready!” Elisabet called out and stood in the middle of her room expectantly. The door opened and Helga peered around it, then came bouncing in as she saw her friend.

“Oh, Elisabet! By the Nine – you look amazing! What is this you are wearing? I have never seen anything like it!” She reached out and touched the sheer silken material which was layered to create a beautiful dress.

“It is Elven, “Replied Elisabet excitedly, “and it is made from the finest of materials! I do not even think we in Asgard have anything quite like this. It feels so comfortable and light and it fitted perfectly when I tried it on – is it not wonderful?”

“Oh my, it certainly is.” Said Helga, “Give a twirl!”

Elisabet held her arms out and slowly turned around to show off the dress. Strapless, it was made of layers of silk fabric in pale icy green and warm yellow gold, which were cinched just under the bosom with a line of onyx-black crystals, allowing the simple lines of the skirts to fall to the floor.

“And I have this…” She placed a sheer shawl of the same fabric in black around her shoulders. It had tiny gems in the colours of the dress dotted here and there upon it.

“You are absolutely beautiful, ‘Bet, truly beautiful – you look like the perfect birth celebrant. Where did you get it?”

“I have… ‘borrowed’ it. It is on its way to the college to be put on display – it is from Loki’s collection.”

“Are you allowed to do that?!” Helga was surprised.

“Well, I have now, so it is too late!” Laughed Elisabet. “These clothes are meant to be worn, to be seen!”

“And what are those in your hair? Have you ‘borrowed’ those, too?”

Elisabet reached up and touched the hairpins. “Oh, no – these are a gift from Loki.” Her face suddenly reddened as she realised that she had revealed a little more than that to Helga in the way she had said it.

“Elisabet…?” Her friend raised an eyebrow and looked at her quizzically, “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No.” She replied, a little too quickly and failing to convince Helga at all.

“Elisabet Johannesdottr!” Exclaimed Helga, “Are you seeing the Prince?!”

She was surprised to see her friend look around nervously before shaking her head, “No, no. It is simply a gift!”

“You are not telling me that…”

“No! I tell you. There is nothing between us!” Elisabet’s mood suddenly soured, “Speak no more of it.” Realising she had been rather harsh, she smiled apologetically, “Now. Your turn. I have brought you this…”

As she handed Helga a hanger with a stylish Midgardian dress on it, the subject of her relationship with Loki was dropped and the two young women excitedly carried on getting ready for Elisabet’s celebration.

They were just slipping on their matching shoes when a knock came at the front door.

“Oh, are you expecting anyone? I thought we were all meeting at the college bar?” Asked Elisabet.

“No, are you?” Elisabet shook her head in answer to her friend and they both went to answer the door to see who it was. To their surprise, a Palace Guard was standing there.

“Do I have the honour of greeting Elisabet Johannesdottr?” He asked.

“I am she!” Said Elisabet expectantly.

“Then I bid you to please come this way…” The guard walked back down the path of the front garden to the street where a huge black coach drawn by four white horses was standing. As they approached, the footman opened the door and a very familiar looking leg stuck out as the passenger emerged. There were green and gold ribbons decorating the coach and it looked very grand in deed.

“Loki?” Asked Elisabet, and then quickly realised where she was, “Erm, Your Highness?”

“Miss Johannesdottr.” Prince Loki elegantly bowed at the waist, drew her hand into his and kissed it. The way his deep emerald eyes travelled up her and met hers as he stood back up was not entirely platonic; they roved over the flattering way the Elven dress hugged her figure and positively smouldered at her by the time he had let go of her hand again.

“You look…” He took a moment to remember the words for a sentence that was appropriate for the situation, “… lovely.”

Struggling hard to keep her own expression neutral given the feelings his appraisal had germinated in her, Elisabet smiled, “Thank you, Your Highness. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Ah, yes. It is your birth celebration this evening, is it not?”

“Yes, my Prince. We were just on our way out to meet friends…”

“Then I shall not keep you.” Loki motioned to the footman, who began to untether a black stallion whose reins were affixed to the back of the coach. “I have brought this coach along for your own personal use for the evening, along with the driver and footman, of course. A young lady should travel in style on her special day. And… I have a gift.” He looked critically at her outfit again, “I notice you wear no necklace. That is fortunate…” He produced a gold chain from the thin air in front of her with a twist of his fingers and both Elisabet and Helga gasped in surprise at the trick. He stepped forwards, undoing the clasp, “Turn around, please.” Elisabet turned from him to face Helga, with an excited and surprised look on her face, grinning from ear to ear. Loki’s cool fingers brushed her hair across her shoulders to one side, lingering on her bare skin for much longer than was necessary before he brought the necklace around her throat and fastened the clasp. In a voice far too low for anyone to hear but her, he said, “I would very much like to see you in this later, Elisabet. And nothing but this as you cry out my name…”

By the Gods! His words were like a flame to a fuse and she felt the redness rising up her face as her insides went haywire. The damn Trickster knew exactly what he had just done to her, yet maintained a perfectly proper and polite look on his pale face as he turned her back around to look at the necklace on her. Taking no notice of the outright desire in her eyes, he smiled “Perfect! I believe this compliments your – Elven? – outfit wonderfully. We can discuss it tomorrow in the special viewing room of the textile gallery.” He turned to Helga, who had been watching all this with faint amusement until her eyes met his and then she too became flustered as he asked, “What do you say, Miss Gillingsdottr?” He laughed inwardly at his ability to cause women to have such reactions.

“Er, er she looks absolutely gorgeous, Your Highness. Would you not agree?”

“I would indeed.” He smiled, “A true Asgardian rose. You both look beautiful.”

Helga now felt a small measure of his charisma and began to go doe-eyed, but Elisabet was managing to get hold of herself again and had decided this had gone far enough. He was risking their discovery with this behaviour.

“Thank you, Your Highness, for the use of your coach. May I ask permission to perhaps turn up at a later hour than usual tomorrow?”

Loki, who had gone to take the reins of his stallion, looked back to his assistant who looked positively radiant tonight and smiled a heart-breakingly dazzling smile, “You may turn up at any hour. I will be there.” he said and winked.

“And, this necklace… it is unusual. What is this stone? I have never seen anything like it.”

Loki gracefully mounted his horse and made ready to ride back to the Palace. 

“It is called an Altseende øyet…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I have been slow to upload. RL has dropped a bombshell, but I'm working my way through it and I will get my stories told.  
> Thanks for your patience and sticking with it <3


	10. Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's affections towards Erika - and the gossip about them - reach Odin's ears...

The doors to the Throne Room clanged shut and the sound of heavy boots and of the heels of ladies shoes echoed through the huge golden space.

 

Elisabet looked towards the throne as she approached it, but could not see clearly through her tears. Snatching an arm out of the hands of one of the guards escorting her, she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Odin was sitting there with a cold expression and Loki, in the presence of two other guards, was kneeling before the steps leading up to the Asgardian throne with his head bowed. The hour was incredibly late – around an hour after midnight. Elisabet was brought to Loki’s side and a hand on her shoulder made her lower herself to her knees too. She glanced sideways at the Prince, but he was looking at the bottom of the steps with his features set in a stony stare. Her stomach was doing flip flops and she was sure she was going to be sick – and not from anything she had drunk this night.

 

“Loki, Prince Of Asgard. Elisabet Johannesdottr.” Started Odin.

 

Loki ground his teeth together; the muscles in his angular jaw clenching as he did so. He knew perfectly well why they were here – it was more than obvious – yet he still did not see why Odin had made such an issue of it. He was a Prince of Asgard! He could do as he pleased, choose to be around anyone he pleased… have relations with whom-so-ever he pleased. What was any of this to do with the All Father?

 

“You have disobeyed the express command of your King. Despite several warnings, you have continued with this… relationship,” Odin said the word as if it was offensive to his ears, “and now it has come to my attention that gifts of affection have been exchanged… NO!” He pointed a finger to silence Loki, who had looked up and opened his mouth to protest, “This is not a hearing and there will be no dialogue. This is a decree! You may well be of the Royal Family and you may well be a youth keen to pursue pleasures of the flesh. Fornicate if you will, but do not carry it on into a matter for your heart. A Prince of Asgard can only have a wife from the correct echelon of society!”

 

Odin now turned his gaze on to Elisabet. Although she was looking at the floor with her head bowed, she could feel that ancient weight as he started to speak. She began to shake in fear uncontrollably and frightened tears began to course freely down her cheeks, falling onto the marble floor.

 

“And so I come to you, Miss Johannesdottr. A seamstress student, daughter to a honey farmer and one of obvious ambition, given that you seem to be determined to affect the state of a God’s heart! Just who do you think you are to play with the affections of a rash young Prince such as Loki? Do you think yourself above others in some way?”

 

_No!_

 

Elisabet wanted to scream out at her King and his unfair appraisal of her. The attentions of Loki had been completely unexpected, especially to her. But having been in love with him even before she worked here was it not natural that she would accept his advances once he made them? They were friends and shared common interests. Would the fact that they had become lovers be such a problem if she had not been of such a lowly social position? If she had been one of the many – and it was true – lazy high born strumpets around court, would Odin have allowed the relationship to continue?

 

“What was your idea, hmmm? To lure the Prince into begetting a bastard within your belly? Do you really think the House of Odin would recognise one such as that?” The King’s voice was harsh and loud and his cruel words cut Elisabet to the bone. She began to physically hurt inside at his spiteful and demeaning appraisal of her and she clutched at her stomach, curling forward as her body contracted with the force of her tears and wishing this would all just stop.

 

“Father!” Loki, seeing what this was doing to Elisabet, tried to stop the vitriolic tirade.

“Still your mouth, boy!” Odin shouted and Loki backed down under the sheer force of the All Father’s will.

 

“My warnings were clear and simple.” Odin motioned to the two guards beside Elisabet, “Pick the girl up!” and they hauled her to her feet, whereupon she leaned heavily between them on their strong arms, her legs failing her in the petrifying presence of such a domineering King.

“Your post is terminated as of now. Your place at the college no longer exists and your belongings are being removed from your lodgings as I speak. You are to be removed to somewhere only I know the location of and you will remain there until I decide you have learned your lesson.”

 

Finally, Elisabet’s body obeyed her and she managed a response, “Noooo! Please, I beg of you! I have done nothing wrong…”

Completely ignoring her, Odin continued. “I do not wish to have cheap harlots such as you any where near the Palace to tempt potential heirs of Asgard. If you are found within ten miles of here before I allow your return to the city, I will have you arrested. If you attempt to contact the Prince in any way, either directly or through a third party, I will have you arrested. Heimdallr is under strict instruction to track you and he will report anything untoward back to me. The ravens will report daily to me and you will… _you will…_ obey all of this. Contravene my instructions and you will be arrested and sent somewhere from which you will never be able to contact anyone. Take her away!”

 

As the guards started to drag her away, Elisabet managed to look over at Loki, who still knelt with his head bowed. She could not see it, but his impotent rage was boiling inside him, threatening to turn those beautiful emerald eyes a shade of crimson in his pale visage. “Loki. Loki, I love you…” She whispered as the guards pulled at her, “Loki, do not allow your collection to be destroyed! At least for me, please…” Her voice rose as she managed to sob the words out, “Loki, I would do it all over again… I love you!” Finally she turned her eyes to the King, who was watching all of this impassively, “You are taking me away from someone I LOVE! I would never do anything to harm your son. You are making a mistake – I love him with all my heart…” The All Father simply looked away with an imperious attitude and yelled at the guards holding her: “Get her out of here!”

 

The last thing Elisabet saw before she was finally removed from the Throne Room was Odin descending the steps with Gungnir in his hand, looking down at her Prince as if he was the scum of Asgard.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Now,” Said Odin as he came to a stop in font of the dark haired Prince kneeling before him. “Your turn. You will listen to the punishment I have in store for you. You will listen, you will hear and you will accept. And you will heed every word I say. You will be attentive, you will be obedient and you will be grateful for every instruction I give.”

 

Loki suppressed his anger; he had never yet openly opposed his King. He had been mostly subordinate in their disagreements and Odin had been too busy running the Nine realms to be overly bothered with his misdemeanours. Taking a deep breath, Loki swallowed down the hatred he felt for the God he called his father, “Every instruction, My King…”

 

“Good. Then listen closely. You will make no attempt to contact the girl. Or her friends. Or her family, fellow students, house mates – no one. If you do, then I will have her arrested.” Odin paused, allowing his words to sink in and to observe how Loki was clearly forcing himself to remain calm – and was having trouble doing so. He decided to ramp things up further. It was time Loki received a lesson in just who was in charge of Asgard.

 

“It is time your wayward tendencies were brought to heel. You have one more week to complete the storage of your works of art – and I know you are more than capable, so just attend to it. The following week, you will start to attend the heavy weapons training again. Your time at the stables will be limited to three hours twice a week and your time training with your mother will also be cut to three hours twice a week. You will attend all warcraft, diplomacy, history and other lessons as I see fit and you will not…” He paused and Loki finally raised his head to look at him through eyes of darkest, stormiest green – _when did they change from that blue he had taken on in that temple all those centuries ago?_ – “… will not be permitted to travel in order to procure more ‘art’. Your galleries are going to be closed permanently.”

 

“And what of Elisabet? You will make that blameless girl pay while I’m forced to train?”

“Frigga is the only reason Elisabet is not banished from Asgard completely and you will never see her again. She will spend the rest of her days as a common Asgardian and you as the Prince you were brought up to be.” Odin returned to the top of the steps and sat down on his throne to regard the Prince with a cold look.

“Take him to his gallery. The hour is late and I would retire. The Prince, however, has some work to do.”

 

Not giving Odin the satisfaction of another staring contest, Loki shook off the hands of the guards and strode to the doors of the Throne room, intent on getting away from the presence of the All Father as soon as possible.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What are you doing?!” Helga pulled at the arm of a Palace Guard, but he shrugged her off.

“Express command of the All Father. Stand aside, Miss.”

 

Helga looked on in disbelief as Elisabet’s small room was ransacked and her few belongings bundled into two bags which were then unceremoniously dragged down the stairs. The guard opened the front door to take them outside and then dumped them on the steps.

 

Only an hour ago, she had been celebrating Elisabet’s birth with all their friends and then the guards had turned up and dragged the poor girl away to the Palace. Now, with the Moon of Asgard lighting up the street, they had removed her possessions and were refusing to tell Helga what was going on. The sound of hooves in the street so late at night was just not right for this area of Asgard and Helga barged past the guard to see what was happening. Two more Palace Guards had turned up on black horses, with Elisabet being escorted on a third between them.

 

“ ‘Bet!” Shouted Helga, and she ran down the steps towards her friend, who sat dejectedly in the saddle staring down at the reins which were held by one of the guards beside her.

“Get back!” Ordered the other guard and she was grabbed from behind and led firmly away from the horses and their riders.

“Elisabet! What are they doing? What has happened?” Helga’s voice conveyed her worry and Elisabet glanced over at her from red rimmed eyes. “I am not allowed to speak to…”

“Still your mouth, Johannesdottr!” Said one of the guards and Elisabet bowed her head, her slim shoulders starting to shake as she could not prevent herself crying at the harsh treatment. The two guards who had emptied her room slung the bags over the saddle horns of Elisabet’s horse and stood back to salute their mounted colleagues.

“That is everything.” Said one of them.

The horses were motioned forwards and Helga struggled against the grip of the guard holding her.

 

“Elisabet! Elisabet! Where are you going?!” She screamed out, but there was no response as the three riders disappeared up the street. She turned to the guard, who now relaxed his hold on her, “Where are they taking her? What is going on? I do not understand – you cannot do this!”

“I do not know. Only that it is as far away from the Prince as possible and no one is permitted to try to find her.” He joined the other guard and they strode off in the direction of the Palace, leaving Helga shocked and stunned at how Elisabet’s birth celebration day had turned out. Only a few hours ago they had been giggling with friends over how Elisabet must have impressed Prince Loki with her work for him to have started to give her presents, especially as precious as the hairpins.

 

And now Elisabet had been snatched away in the middle of the night at the command of King Odin. She sighed sadly. Commoners had few rights in Asgard, it seemed. Maybe Jotúnnheimr was not that bad a place after all; it did not pretend to be more democratically advanced and civilised than it was.

 

Helga frowned and went back into the house which felt so empty without her friend. She would find Elisabet, no matter what it took.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki stood in the small room where he had last spent time with Elisabet. Her pretty face, staring in wonder at the textiles, with excitement at the hair pins and in ecstasy at him as they had made love, played across his mind’s eye. He lashed out in anger and sent two mannequins crashing noisily to the floor with their delicate costumes tearing at the seams. He felt bitterness building within him, along with a sense of unfairness and before he knew it, his rage was charging through his body and causing power to radiate off him in waves. His skin grew cold and he felt stronger somehow, more powerful yet less able to control himself or to stop himself unleashing it. He wanted to destroy everything in here; all it could ever do now was remind him of this day.

 

He did not know it, but his eyes had turned crimson and in the concealing dark, his skin was taking on a faint blue colour. As he turned to lash out at the nearest thing, however, he stopped dead and all the pent up energy and emotion drained away, leaving him empty and hollow. His eyes returned to their beautiful emerald colour and the unseen blue faded back to Asgardian white.

 

He was looking at the Kimono.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As they left through the gates of the city of Asgard and began to trot down one of the highways into the countryside, Elisabet began to sob quietly to herself. Odin was being true to his word. After she had been dragged out of the throne room, she had been taken to Seneschal, who had detailed her punishment. She was being sent to the Northern Outlands, where she would be given somewhere to stay for an unspecified amount of time so that she would get Loki out of her system and be made to understand that he was someone she would never be allowed to become close to ever again. She would be pressed into service to pay her way and none of this was up for discussion. Her parents were going to be informed that she was being punished for some kind of insubordination and would not be contactable for a while. Her college would be told that she wished to drop out and Helga was simply left bewildered.

 

After six cold dark hours in the saddle and now feeling numb inside, Elisabet spotted a small hamlet in the predawn light. She had no idea where she was; all she knew was that she was cold and tired. She had cried silently for so long as they had ridden through the night that she had become utterly devoid of emotion and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and go to sleep. They rode quietly down the centre of about half a dozen houses and on up a hill on the other side, where there was a low-roofed cottage standing at the edge of a woodland. The horses were brought to a stop at a wooden gate in the fence surrounding the garden in which the cottage stood and the two guards dismounted. One of them reached a hand up and helped Elisabet down while the other took her bags and they approached the front door of the cottage which opened as they neared it. The warm glow of the interior looked incredibly inviting after the overnight journey and Elisabet hoped that this was her destination; she did not believe she could carry on much longer. So it was with a measure of relief that she heard the woman standing in the doorway say:

 

“Elisabet? Come inside, dear.”


	11. The Downward Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is quite a dark chapter and deals with the confusion and depression that can set in after a big life event which is bad, very often quite a while after and very often taking one by surprise.
> 
> Will Loki discover what is wrong in time...?

“Johannes! Come here. There is something here from the Palace.”

 

Elisabet’s father appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping his hands on an oily cloth having been mending an old wheelbarrow. “What is it?” He asked.

“I am not sure. The box is large, but it is incredibly light for its size.” His wife reached for an envelope attached to the top of the box and opened it. She read the elegantly written note inside and her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Johannes, look!”

 

It was a letter from Prince Loki. In it he expressed his regret at what had happened with Elisabet without elaborating on why she had been sent away, and that he was truly sorry that they had parted on terms that were not exactly the best. He mentioned that he was very fond of her and had decided to send something to them for safe keeping that she had admired from his art collection, asking that they look after it until such time as she returned from the outlands and that they tell no one of it.

 

Very carefully, Védís untied the green ribbons which secured the large black box and took off the lid. Inside, golden tissue paper lay on top of something soft and there was another note lying on it. As she took the tissue paper out and held up what it had been protecting, Johannes read what was on the parchment.

 

“Enclosed is a Japanese Kimono from the Realm of Midgard…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet soon found her feet where she had been sent to stay. The cottage she had first arrived at that cold night of her exile was accommodation for people who worked at a much larger house which she had not seen because it had been hidden behind the woods. She was given a post as a chambermaid, including duties as a seamstress and in return she was given bed and board. The people she worked with were nice enough, but they and the heavy workload were simply not enough to drive away the sorrow which ate away at her inside. She missed Helga enormously and wept frequently at not being able to see her parents, even to contact them in any way.

 

But the deep ache in her heart, the black emptiness that would not go away, was for the loss of Loki. The way in which he had been taken from her hurt and it hurt terribly. Odin had shown no mercy, no compassion, no feeling at all – he was simply interested in winning the battle of wills with Loki and in controlling him, no matter what it meant for her.

 

As she finished her supper one night after having lived in the cottage for a few months, she decided to take a walk to try to lift her spirits. She wrapped a warm shawl around her shoulders and slipped out the back door to find that the landscape was brightly lit by the full Asgardian Moon and that a faint breeze was stirring the leaves on the trees. Elisabet followed a path out of the garden and past the woodland, along which she had walked many times with one or two of the friends she had made here. It led through a wildflower meadow and eventually to a thin strip of grassy scrubland which gave way to cliff tops overlooking the waters of Asgard. She found watching the swirling waters many feet below soothing when her mind was troubled and it was these she was heading for. However, as she trailed her hands through the various flowers illuminated by the unusually bright moon, she caught sight of a clump of daisies and her heart sank. They brought to mind the memory of a tall handsome Prince tucking a daisy into her hair on a realm far away as they had walked together in a garden there. Her face crumpled as tears suddenly flooded her eyes and she stumbled down the last few feet of the path to where she had been going almost blinded by them. She dropped to the ground in a small slightly sheltered spot and dangled her legs over the edge of the cliff, sniffing hard and wiping her face with her sleeve, looking out over the waters and hoping desperately that this sudden onset of depression would pass.

 

Her fingers reached for her pendant and she clasped the black stone as she cried into the breeze where no one could hear her, the gentle wind drying her tears into tracks of salt on her skin. But this time it was different. This time she allowed herself to truly give vent to the hurt and anger she had kept pent up inside and as she screamed up to the night sky, the golden chain upon which the pendant hung snapped under the tension her grip had created. She held the black stone up and looked at the faint gold and green stars swimming inside. Aside from the hairpins she had been wearing that fateful night, which she kept in case she needed to sell them, and the rosewood box which the guards had put into her belongings; this was her only reminder of Loki. Why she had continued to wear it she did not know; it had become a worry stone of some sort, but she now realised all it had been doing was tie her to the past and a love she would never feel again.

 

Drawing her arm back, Elisabet threw the Altseende Øyet out into the waters of Asgard.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A faint tug at his mind brought Loki back into the room from his bored day-dreaming. He was in the Great Hall, sitting at the high table with Odin, Frigga and Thor as courtiers, Gods, Goddesses and nobles all feasted in celebration of… of… he sighed. He could not remember, but his enforced attendance to all these Royal and State occasions was another part of his continued punishment. He stroked the bruised knuckles on his pale and otherwise elegant hand and yawned widely; weapons training had been particularly violent today.

 

There it was again. A nagging in the periphery of the thoughts in his tired brain of a somehow distant call. Or a feeling. Yes, that was it. Loki set his mind to drowning out the noise around him and concentrated on the strange intrusion.

 

Like a signal; faint at first but stronger as he listened. A feeling of cold and then of wetness came over him. The muffled sound of waves and of bubbling water teased his inner ear and he wondered what it could be. It did not help that he was in the company of noisy revellers, of course! He yawned again and turned to the King.

 

“All Father. May I please be excused? The training today has been arduous and has taken its toll on me. I am fatigued. I would like to get some sleep so I am well rested and fresh for tomorrow.”

 

Odin and Thor both looked at him and laughed raucously, “Of course, Loki!” said Odin, “I forget that you are not exactly of the same robust condition as Thor here. Go on. Go and get some beauty sleep!” They laughed again at his jibe and crashed their tankards together before taking a large foamy draught. Ignoring their attempt to wind him up and grimacing at the spreading puddle of mead that had spilled from their tankards, Loki stood and turned to his mother. He kissed her hand and bowed.

“Goodnight Mother.”

“Goodnight Loki,” She replied, smiling up at him and pulling him down to kiss his pale cheek, “sleep well, my son.”

 

Loki hurried to his suite to be somewhere quiet, puzzling on the strange connection he seemed to have with something out there somewhere. Once he had sat down and closed his eyes to concentrate, more feelings came through and he finally realised what it must be. It was one of his Øyets.

 

The Altseende Øyets. A magical item he had been introduced to by his mother. He had been given one by her when he was very young, but had simply assumed it was an ornamental gem of some kind. They came from a world called Krynn and were mined by the Dwarves at a special location. Recently, he had taken more of an interest in the gems as he had started to give them to people he cared for as presents. When his mother had found out, she had hinted that they had magical properties, especially for communication. He had quite a few of them in his drawer and a larger one to which they were all linked, called the Mother Øyet. He decided he needed to learn some more about them, as he was now convinced one of them was trying to communicate something to him. He got up and teleported to the library.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet stared over the edge of the cliff, swaying slightly in the breeze as she dangled her feet. The turbulent waters crashed against the treacherously sharp rocks sixty feet below her; the foam tipped waves swirling in hypnotic patterns in the cold moonlight.

 

It would be so easy.

 

Quick.

 

Over.

 

To just allow herself to slip off the edge. Then mere moments until it ended. This emptiness. This pain.

 

Elisabet’s young mind churned around with the raw emotions that the punishment of being torn away from the life and the people she loved had triggered. With no one close enough to turn to, all she had done was experience her ideas and thoughts turning in on themselves and concentrating the feelings of despair and loss terribly. She had no idea how long Odin would insist she stay here and so she had no future to work towards, no end date to look forward to.

 

The waters below painted inviting patterns on the jagged peaks of Asgardian Basalt protruding from them and the young girl sat staring at them through eyes blurred with tears that seemed to be something she could not pass a day without shedding.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki skim-read the chapter on Dwarven mining, the discovery of the Øyet seam long ago and the eventual utilisation of them by the Mages; he wanted practical information on their use. After a few minutes he found it. As he read the paragraph on communication, his interest was piqued and he quickly made the connection. It was definitely one of his øyets that had triggered the feelings and images in his mind. But which one and where was it? He continued to read and within moments had discovered the means by which he could find out. He slammed the book shut and teleported to a place he felt safe and secure and where no one would disturb him. His study.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet wrestled with the dark thoughts taking over her mind. They were not her true nature! Up until a few months ago, she had been a happy young college student working for her handsome prince and she had been in love. She had been a naturally friendly and bubbly young woman full of the joys that life could bring and everything had been just perfect.

 

What a dreadful descent to where she was now. And although her former self battled against it, this new depressed and lonely personality was winning. She shuffled forwards on the scrubby grass edge and turned her gaze up to the cold white Asgardian Moon as she allowed her legs to slip further over the edge.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki sat in the small dark room and relaxed himself completely, emptying his mind of all thought as much as he could. In his hands he cradled the Mother Øyet, inside which gold and green speckles like stars swam around the black interior. He felt a connection form, as the texts had described, and then he felt a series of smaller links, which then formed a strange map in his mind. His øyets formed a kind of stellar map; a universe of points of awareness inside his head. There was a central ‘sun’ which was the Mother gem in his hands, a small cluster of ‘stars’ which was the bag of unused gems in a bag in his drawer and a few outlying fainter ‘stars’ which had to be those he had given away as presents. It was strange, yet beautiful and he understood now why the mages had found them so useful.

 

One of the outlying gems was glowing brighter than the others and Loki turned his attention to it. His inner self seemed to move away from the central position where the Mother sat and gravitated to the one he had concentrated on. As he grew nearer, he began to feel the same sensations as before; cold and wet, but now he started to get flashbacks of memories associated with it, but he could not divine where in Asgard it was – there seemed to be some kind of barrier preventing his mind from really latching on to it properly. He finally understood whose gem it was.

 

Elisabet’s.


	12. A World Elsewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga receives an important guest and we discover what all of this has done to Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, but I will be publishing an Epilogue to let you know what happened to Elisabet once she had settled back in Asgard. I hope you have enjoyed this little story and I hope it has given some more insight into the characters as I see them in my Lokiverse.
> 
> Thanks for reading - leave comments and let me know what you thought!!! Only takes a second and I try to get round to replying to everyone!

“Careful, my lady! These cliff edges are treacherous!”

 

A strong pair of hands grasped Elisabet’s upper arms and stopped her from slipping any further. She felt herself being dragged back and she began to come to her senses.

 

What had she been about to do?!

 

“Are you alright, my lady?” Those same strong hands now lifted her to her feet and pulled her away from the edge of the cliff. A kindly face appeared as a handsome young man bent down a little to catch her attention. “Elisabet, is it not? We wondered where you were going at such a late hour.” He seemed to realise that she was not in a good way and he tentatively put an arm around her shoulders, “Let us get you back home.” he said and they began to walk back to the cottage. Elisabet sighed, still shocked at herself and at what she had almost done. The people here might not be her family and the large house she worked in might not be her college, but for now it all really was her home, and someone had cared enough to come to find her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Father! I fear for her life! Please – tell me where she is. I think she is in danger!” Loki held his hands out in supplication; his emerald eyes wide with anxiety. As soon as he had realised the implications of what Elisabet's Altseende was showing him, he had teleported straight back to the Great Hall and had interrupted the King at the high table, throwing himself to his knees despite the audience present in the room. There was a slight disturbance as Muninn suddenly flew into the room and settled on Odin’s wrist. The All Father ignored Loki as he listened to what the black raven had to report.

 

“She is perfectly fine.” He eventually turned to the desperate young Prince and deigned to talk to him. “This display of outrageous sentimentality is only further proof that you have not cast this girl from your mind and I certainly have no intention of revealing her whereabouts to you!”

“But, Father…”

“She is not in danger!” Shouted Odin, and a lot of the guests stared pointedly into their drinks, feeling uncomfortable at the atrocious manner in which the King was treating his younger son. “Give up this ridiculous dream! You will never be reunited with her. Go back to your suite.” Odin looked at the people around who were trying their best to act as if they were not witness to his denial of the boy’s impassioned pleading, “You make a fool of yourself!” He hissed. “Put that cheap wench out of your mind for once and for all or I will never allow her back to the city of Asgard! Now – go!”

 

Loki remained on his knees with a disbelieving look on his face. That the All Father cared so little for Elisabet he would not even allow Loki to confirm that she was alright had utterly shocked him. For a few seconds more he stared aghast at the cold hard expression Odin gave him before staggering to his feet. As he trudged out of the great Hall with a heavy heart and an unshakable sense of uselessness, he realised he had just been on the receiving end of yet another lesson in how Odin could be the cruellest of Kings in his desire to be obeyed.

 

He did not know it, but Odin was still having Elisabet watched by Heimdallr. The All Father had been told of her strange behaviour earlier on in the evening and had sent Muninn out to his contact at the mansion where she now worked. The report the bird had made as Loki had been virtually crying at his feet had been to say that Mikkel had brought the girl safely back to the cottage and the house mother had comforted her and put her to bed.

 

There was just one thing that puzzled Odin.

 

How had Loki known she could have been in danger?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

Queen Frigga looked up to see Fulla enter her salon.

“Hello, Fulla, how fare you?”

“I am well, my lady. You have a visitor…” Fulla came close and whispered, “It is the girl’s mother. You know? Elisabet…” She gave Frigga a concerned look. “Shall I send her away?”

“No.” Replied Frigga. “Send her in. We will retire to my private room where no one can pry. Would you bring us some tea?”

“Yes, my lady.” Fulla went to the door and ushered in a woman of middle years, of a robust frame and very handsome to look at, with a mane of soft blonde curls tied back loosely from her face. She approached nervously and managed a vague curtsey.

“Your Highness.” She said and bowed her head.

 

Frigga rose from her seat and walked over to her. “Védís, is it not? Welcome. Come through to my study; it is a pleasant place to chat and to have a cup of tea.”

 

The Queen showed Védís into a lovely wooden panelled room with shelves crammed with books. She indicated a comfortable red leather armchair and once Fulla had brought in a tea tray and had left the room, shutting the door behind her for privacy, Frigga played mother, pouring the tea and handing a cup to her guest, who was clearly very nervous. She watched her sip it and smiled, “Do you like it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. It is unusual. Delicious, with a floral note a bit like our honey.”

“It is Midgardian. It is called ‘Earl Grey’ and I have it imported specially. The floral note is something called ‘Bergamot’.” She placed her own cup on the saucer and her expression became serious. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“Oh… Your Majesty!” Védís’ eyes filled with sudden tears and she placed her cup on the table with a shaking hand. “I did not wish to trouble you, but it has been eight months! Surely the punishment is enough?” She instantly bowed her head, wiping her eyes and nose with a cotton handkerchief. “We miss our daughter, Your Majesty. We miss her terribly! There is no telling if she will ever be able to get back into training as a seamstress and we do not even know if she is alright… We know it was not simply insubordination that she was sent away for. We know... we know she and Loki were close.”

 

Frigga’s heart went out to the poor woman. The Gods alone knew how she, the Queen, felt when Odin was away at war – and she got daily messages! She knew that he was more than likely to return. But these poor people – they had no clue as to where their daughter was or how she fared. Védís was right. The punishment had gone on long enough. For everyone involved.

 

For it was not just Elisabet and her family.

 

Loki had suffered, too. At first in a way she could not see. He was quiet and moody and sometimes did not turn up for their lessons. Then he had gone through a period of optimism, talking to her about how surely Odin would not make this last much longer, about how they might be allowed to socialise together in some sort of chaperoned, formal way.

 

Then had come the blow.

 

After the night when Loki had begged Odin in front of everyone to tell him where Elisabet was – the night he had thought she was in some kind of danger – and he had been refused, Loki had changed. The optimism and hope for Elisabet’s return had vanished and her son’s behaviour suddenly took a turn for the worse. He came back from all the various weapons training he had been made to do with horrendous injuries, yet he took no time to heal properly before going to the next lesson and insisting he be pitted against the toughest, hardest and most brutal opponents. Oh, he threw himself at them like a wildcat cornered by a bear, but he always came off worst. Thor and the other well-built students would laugh and jeer as the slim Prince strode out time and time again into the arena to fight with the seriously more powerful opponents. But after a while, they could only look on in stunned silence as his lips were split, his eyes were blackened and his ribs were broken over and over again. They even ended up in heated arguments with the dark-haired Trickster as they began to try to stop him entering the fights.

 

And as if that was not enough, rumours began about the Palace as to the number of hearts – and maidenhoods – he was breaking. Loki was leaving a wake of devastated young court debutantes behind him, having charmed and flattered them into bed only to forget about them the next day.

 

The sad part about it all was that when she had tried to talk to Loki about his behaviour, all he had said was: “But Mother. I am training to be King of Asgard. As long as I only keep company with the correct echelons of society, I am only doing my duty, am I not?” He had turned his back on her and had walked away.

 

Frigga looked at Védís in a kindly fashion. “I agree. It is not only Elisabet or Loki who is suffering now. Come, we will talk to the All Father. All I ask is that you do not anger him. It will achieve nothing.”

“Oh, my Queen!” Védís clasped Frigga’s hands and a small sob escaped her, “Thank you! From one mother to another!” tears glistened in her eyes as she added, “One cannot fail to see how Loki has changed. I wish things could have been different. Elisabet used to send letters telling us what a lovely man he was with her. I hope he will come around…”

“Thank you, Védís. Now, let us search out Odin’s favour…”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Elisabet stared at the distant golden Palace of Asgard as she travelled in the coach that had been sent to bring her back to the city. She had been allowed to return to her lodgings with Helga and a job serving at a large mansion in the Merchant’s Quarter. She was under strict instructions to stay away from the district in which the Palace was located.

 

The young girl sat straight backed as the coach made its way up the street. She was determined to make something of herself. She would work hard, save her money and find a new college at which to study. Odin may have taken away someone she loved, but Elisabet was made of stern stuff and she would get her life back, no matter that she had been abandoned by her Prince. According to news she had managed to hear over the months of her exile, he seemed to be having the time of his life fighting, womanising and now even drinking himself into oblivion at the bawdy parties the young courtiers were notorious for throwing most nights of the week.

 

She did not need the Palace and she did not need Loki.

 

Elisabet looked out of the window of the coach in the other direction towards the district in which Helga lived and thought about the handsome young man who had pulled her back from the brink of the cliff top.

 

“There is a world elsewhere…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! More notes because I forgot to give credit out.
> 
> There will be those of you who spotted them already and probably smiled at the irony of yet another fanfictioneer being bold enough to use quotes and film dialogue, but I have to mention Marvel for the very obvious parts of their script I incorporated into this story, and I have to thank Shakespeare for two quotes. One from Hamlet and one from Coriolanus. 
> 
> I recently saw both of them at the cinema. One as an encore screening starring Tom Hiddleston, Deborah Findlay and Mark Gatiss amongst others. The other was the live broadcast starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Anastasia Hille. It is thanks to productions like these that I am, in my middle years, finally starting to read Shakespeare, having never done it at school.
> 
> Check out the NT Live website for details of live screenings near you of many plays from all around the world.


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did Elisabet's and Loki's lives go from here? 
> 
> In this short and final chapter, you get to find out and I hope I manage to explain just how my Loki truly becomes "My" Loki. My beloved muse and centre of my Lokiverse.

Elisabet took her first steps on the path to becoming a strong and successful woman that day. As she turned her back on the Palace and the Prince she had loved and lost, she had determined resolutely that she would never allow her heart to be broken like that again. The reunion with her parents and Helga in the small house where the two friends lived was wonderful and many tears were shed as they all hugged and made plans for the future. Helga had made Elisabet’s favourite supper of spiced Asgardian fishcakes with exotic salad leaves and creamy dips to accompany them. There was apple pie with cinnamon custard to follow, made from Asgardian Russet Apples grown on her parents’ farm and she felt incredibly happy and almost overwhelmed by the feeling of being surrounded by those she loved again.

It took her two years to make enough money at her job to be able to finally leave and attend a prestigious college in the art quarter of Asgard to study textiles and art, specialising in dressmaking. Her parents had brought her the Kimono Loki had sent during her exile and it had set her back a bit emotionally. When they had left later that day, she had taken the box upstairs and had wept bitterly for the first time in ages as to what had happened. At first, she had wanted to tear the garment to shreds and burn it, but then she realised how awful that would be and what a tragic loss of a beautiful dress. Instead, she had sent it anonymously to the college she had attended when she was Loki’s curator and had donated it to their collection. In the meantime, she excelled in her classes and held many exhibitions of her work in local fashion boutiques.

However, money once again began to become tight and her sporadic work as a commissioned seamstress was not quite paying her way. She had to take a job. One morning, she was talking to a lady for whom she had just produced a beautiful summer coat and found out that there was a position being advertised at the college she had studied at before she had met Loki. It was as a tutor in the textiles department and required the successful applicant to teach all aspects of working with fabrics, something she was highly skilled in. She took a while to think upon it; did she really want to go back to a place that would serve as a reminder of happier times that were followed by such a horrendous upheaval? After an hour or two she made up her mind. She needed the money to live on, the work would be in an area she enjoyed and it would enable her to pursue a career in something she held a passion for.

Two days later she attended an interview with her former head of department, was taken out for a coffee afterwards and was pretty much told straightaway that she had got the job. She finished her own course with distinctions, helped to reform the curriculum at the college she now worked at and was frequently commissioned by the rich and famous of Asgard to create luxurious and unique outfits for them to wear to prestigious events. She had the luxury of being able to travel far and wide within the realm to gain inspiration from the rich variety of culture and traditions found in the different regions and her course became one for which the very best up and coming students would compete to study on.

About twenty years after she had returned to the city of  Asgard , Elisabet decided to take a hiatus in order to leisurely explore her home realm and asked Helga, her life-long friend, to accompany her. The two friends had great fun planning the trip and came up with a route by allowing rice seeds to drop at random on the map of the ruling realm. One landed on a small village in the Northern Outlands and as Elisabet looked at the names of the places nearby she noticed that one was only a few miles from where she had stayed when she had been exiled from the capital. She determined that they visit so she could see the people who had helped her through the dark days and there was one person in particular she wanted to thank. The one who had saved her life. She hoped he was still there or that someone could direct her to where he was.

Mikkel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so we turn to Loki. We could assume the much admired and handsome God and Prince of Asgard was able to immerse himself deeply into court life as he had told his mother he would, taking his anger and bitterness out on the young women silly enough to throw themselves at him now he seemed to be making himself available to them. We could suppose the beatings he suffered in the arena would knock him out enough to keep the painful memories at bay. We could imagine that the constant fighting and fucking would have occupied him, sated him, and dulled his senses enough to allow him to forget that Elisabet had ever existed. And for a while it was true. If he didn’t manage to exhaust himself in the arena or tire himself out between the thighs of yet another virgin who had been offered up as a potential mate by an ambitious mother, then he would quite often drink himself under the table at parties or even at unsavoury taverns where he would have lost plenty of money playing the various betting games as his sight blurred and his speech slurred before he passed out in the corner. It was a terrible and embarrassing descent into debauchery and eventually Frigga could take it no more. She argued heatedly with Odin on more than one occasion about it, only to find that the King was indifferent to the situation. He inferred Loki was only confirming his long-held suspicions that he was not suitable material for the throne; being too unstable and emotional to detach himself from things and to deal with hardship in a sensible manner. 

Frigga was heartbroken over the situation and lost her temper one night as a messenger brought her news again of how Loki had been assaulted - not for the first time - in a back alley in the docks as he had staggered out of a tavern to try to find his way home. He had earlier in the evening given his bodyguards the slip by cloning himself and sending them on a wild goose chase into the red light district. The Queen had made her way with a dozen Palace guards to where he had been found and had accompanied the unconscious Prince to the healing rooms, where she had remained for a day and a half until he had regained consciousness. She had taken him to the room where they had spent so many happy hours together as she had fostered and helped him to develop his magic skill and they had had one of the most in depth and heart rending conversations in their lives. Somehow, his mother’s words had got through to Loki. Somehow she had convinced him that he did have people around him that loved him. Somehow she had managed to make him see what he was doing to himself and to all those others he was hurting along the way.

It was a turning point for the young Prince and in the space of a few hours, he grew up a few years. When he left that room, having been healed by his gentle and caring mother, he had turned a difficult corner. Although he seemed to have forever lost his genuinely care-free nature, he ceased his heart-breaking around the court and upper-class circles, he reigned in his berserker tendencies in weapons and warrior training and he quit the drink. But he became withdrawn and attended public occasions less and less. He took to his studies with morbid enthusiasm and spent more and more time in the libraries or travelling to visit with mages and practitioners of the magical arts in general. He spent more time at the stables, more time running and more time studying magic and close knife combat with his mother. And then he left Asgard altogether. Loki, for some reason unknown to both himself and to those around him, decided to travel the realms again. Not for art – no, for that had been forbidden by Odin. Loki had gifted his entire collection of textiles to Elisabet’s old college after she had been exiled except for the Kimono, which he had sent to her parents for safe keeping, and the galleries were now permanently closed.

No, Loki travelled to be away from Asgard and the memories he was trying to put behind him. So he travelled the Nine and had many experiences, sometimes meeting with Thor along the way and even some of the other Gods and Goddesses. Not always with favourable outcomes, but he had a lot of fun.

And he had children. 

Loki returned to Asgard after a few decades as both a father and a mother. He had been involved in so many adventures, misdemeanours and outrageously dangerous escapades that his youth was starting to recede into the past where he did not care to look any longer. The day he decided to return to the Palace and to make his way as the younger Prince of Asgard once again, he returned as a completely different man. Now with what amounted to an entire life on Midgard or half a lifetime of most mortal Asgardian citizens, yet only a short time in his own behind him, Loki had gone through enough to make him look forward to simple weapons training and warcraft and diplomacy lectures.

As he rode down one of the many large boulevards in Asgard upon his son Sleipnir towards the Palace he called his home, he steered the great grey beast to one side in order to allow a beautifully decorated pony trap past. In it was a newly wedded couple in all their finery, sharing a sweet kiss as they were conveyed to their honeymoon destination. Loki smiled at the sight; life went on in the golden city of  Asgard just as it always had and he was glad to be back. But as the bride drew back from the handsome groom to smile happily at the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with, Loki’s heart missed a painful beat. The beautiful woman who looked so radiant and so happy was Elisabet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A real quick note to thank everyone for their continued support. I know it takes effort to click on a fic with an original character at the centre of it and commit to reading it - and to keep going sometimes, especially if the tale seems to go off the boil. In my case - please always feel that you can comment. I prefer constructive comments if it is to analyse what I have written, but one liners are also welcome LOL!!!!
> 
> With humble thanks for getting to the end of another one,
> 
> Palefire73  
> x

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story of how Elisabet featured in Loki's life and is at the special request of wellsee21.
> 
> Elisabet is the mother of Erika, my OC in:
> 
> Am I A Monster  
> Diaries Of Loki's Chambermaid  
> States Of A God's Heart  
> What Have I Done
> 
> and other stories yet to be written.


End file.
